Revelations - Destiel
by Lee Austen
Summary: Inspired by 15x3 Coda. Can Dean and Cas really come to face reality about their feelings for each other?
1. Remorse

**Dedicated to the ones who still have hope in Destiel.**

_Cas,_

_I just couldn't do it, could I?_

_I couldn't tell you exactly how I feel because even I don't understand any of it. _

_Where the hell do we begin and end? _

_If you claim that this is the end of us, then why do I feel as if it is also the end of my life too? I've been trying to tell you over and over again how broken we are apart from each other. _

_I'm not angry at you anymore because of mom. I'm angry at her because she actually predicted that I would eventually push you away. She always believed that I would lose the one person I learned to love the most. She always told me that when she fell for my father, it wasn't easy because he saved her when she didn't need to be saved. And that's what you did._

_I'm sitting here in the bunker and Sammy is so angry at me, we haven't been talking really. We talk about cases but apart from that, he wants me to call you here. And I can't call you because then I will have to talk to you and tell you how I feel and that I'm sorry. And if I start to tell you those things, I will break down and when I cry, I feel so weak._

_But I want to tell you something in person._

_It will either bring you back for good or force you to walk away again._

_Can you come to me tonight on the roof of the bunker like old times?_

_If you don't come then I will find you._

_Your broken hunter,_

_Dean_

His footsteps padded across the floor as he approached his brother's form near the table. Sam was trying evidently to ignore his brother's pettiness by pacing the bunker hours at most. Now, as he slowly felt a pat on his shoulder, the younger Winchester glanced up.

"What?" he asked in a tone laced with disappointment still.

Dean sighed. He held out a folded sheet of paper. Those green eyes were brimming with tears. His cheeks were wet. "Here," he croaked. "You told me that you want me to fix this. So can you give this to him?"

"No," Sam said gruffly, folding over his laptop once more and glaring at the screen. "I'm not giving him that. You do it. You messed up bad this time. And I'm not getting in between the two of you because there are a few truths that need to come to light. And I'm just fed up with you right now, Dean."

He wanted to feel something other than sadness. Perhaps anger would have sufficed. But in that moment, all Dean experienced was his heart literally being ripped to shreds. He felt so awfully sick to a point where the flu was considered. But he didn't have the flu. Dean was fully aware of what he was experiencing.

Inhaling deeply, he simply rested the folded bit of paper next to Sam. Eyes squeezed shut as tears threatened to burst forth, Dean did the one thing that had been breaking him for days since. He thought of that one simple name that meant the world to him, and he said it.

Barely a whisper at first, but enough to capture Sam's attention. But then he said it again, hoarsely and terribly. Even his brother was on the verge of tears by the time Dean had expelled his energy and no one appeared.

"See?" he croaked, staring in bewilderment at Sam through the haze of his tears. "He doesn't want me because no one ever does. I'm not worth it."

"Dean," Sam began to say in a softer tone, realizing his brother was on the brink of self-destruction. "Come on—"

"No Sammy," he whispered, reaching up to bat tears away. "I screwed up. He's not coming back."

And slowly and painfully, Dean retreated from the room. When he was gone though, not barely two minutes after, Sam suddenly turned a scowl in the direction of the bookshelf immediately in front of him.

"Cas," he whispered frantically. "You can show yourself now. I know you're there."

Slowly, the angel's form materialized. Skin paler than usual. The light in his blue eyes had faded to a flat color. And worst of all, he was still crying softly as he crumpled to the floor, unable to bear the burden he had been carrying for years.

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	2. Doubtful

Dean sauntered into his gloomy room, evidently wounded and in search of his gun.

It was comfortably lying on the unmade bed, staring back at him between the wave of blue sheets as blue as unforgettable eyes. Eyes that would look hopefully at him without doubt. Eyes that pleaded sometimes and worried so much. Eyes that had stared back at him the last time they were in the same room whilst an ocean of blue turned into dark pools of pain. And so much pain.

He slowly picked up the gun, released the lock and turned the mouth upwards. No. God no. He wouldn't go out like this. You could keep pushing on and on after your world started crumbling and no matter how many wins there were, nothing felt right afterwards. Nothing except the burning inside from a fire that had been raging since Cas died and came back to him.

It was always Cas.

Cas fucked up everything that was normal. It was his fault entirely that everything went wrong, wasn't it? The times when they were on the right path, and then Cas came along, screwing with his psyche. Messing around with his damn mind. He felt like his heart was always playing games, knocking around one night stands and still unable to satisfy that craving.

When Cas was around, he slept deep and dreamt up disturbing scenarios of what could happen instead of what was normal. He woke up feeling hungover and distracted. So what was his ultimate solution? He needed to win back the upper hand. He needed to find his power again, and he began to command situations as if it was his right to move Cas around like a chess piece. He told him where to go, what to do, what to say. And when Jack fell out of their hands, when Cas refused to listen to him, Dean threw a fit because he hated losing control. He hated not knowing what was Cas' next move. He hated the fact that he could not predict where they were going to go.

But Mary's death was the biggest fall out because just before she died, he was angry with his own mother. Why? She saw right through his façade and was terribly expectant of Dean's happy ending. If his mother could have her own way, then Mary would have already thought about pushing along a budding romance. And that is exactly what she was doing when he found her about two days before her death, sitting in the open inside the bunker, feet folded on the floor.

She was perusing a magazine clipping and being sentimental all of a sudden, he made the biggest mistake by joining her on the floor.

"_What're you reading?" Dean asked, beer in hand._

_Mary beamed at him and turned the sheet of paper so that he could get an eyeful._

_When Dean read the heading 'A Few Tips For Moms Who Have Gay Sons' his green eyes widened. "Seriously? Why on earth would you—"_

"_I thought that would be obvious," she smiled warmly at him and continued reading as if it was the most normal thing to do. _

"_Sam's not gay, although I've had my doubts but honestly I—"_

"_I'm not collecting tips for Sam, Dean," Mary said matter-of-factly. She turned her eyes to look at him bashfully. "I'm trying to find some way to get you to accept who you are."_

_He immediately felt as if he had been slammed in the face by a wooden baseball bat. Full force, no joke. And if looks could seriously inflame someone's soul, Dean would literally be a burning bush in that moment. _

"_Mom, that's not. What." He cleared his throat and the residue of beer resting in his mouth tasted like poison. "What are you saying exactly?"_

"_That you're in denial and I'm trying to find a way to reach you somehow," Mary said softly. "Before our lives go sideways, and something happens to me, I need you to be happy, Dean." When he sighed, she collected his face between her palms and squeezed affectionately. "Listen to me, okay? I'm your mother. I know you."_

"_You don't know me," Dean gruffly defended himself. _

"_I know enough."_

"_Why do you even think that I'm…" he gestured to the torn out page of the magazine. "Come on, this is ridiculous. Maybe you've had a little too much idle time and you need to start hunting again and maybe it's time to—"_

"_Castiel," Mary simply said, giving him a smug look. "And don't say another word because you can't ever convince me otherwise that you are not in love with him—"_

"_Mom—"_

"_He's an angel," Mary nodded. "Sure. But he's enough. Castiel is…" she sighed, smiling dreamily at Dean, "…so perfect for you. The two of you complement each other in a lot of ways that remind me of John. He saved you from hell, didn't he?"_

_He was slowly dying inside, and no words tumbled out. Just a cold stare that was a façade for the building hysteria swirling around inside. Because how the hell could she see right through him like that? _

"_Castiel saved you and John saved me. Dean, I was in a bad place when I met your father," Mary went on, her fingers fluttering a little over her lap. "I didn't know who I was at the time. I thought that I was lost and wasn't deserving of love. And he showed up. He proved to me that there is someone out there who can expect nothing but the best in me. John just wanted me to be happy. He didn't care about his happiness. And that's what I see in Castiel. He doesn't ever put himself first. He puts you first. Always. And once you have someone like that in your life, Dean, you never ever let them go." _

After feeling pin pricks of pain inside his head from focusing a little too much on that one significant memory, Dean breathed out a shaky sigh. Tears burned behind his eyelids and he squeezed them out, scalding through his fluttering eyelashes. And after feeling a cold front moving in and cornering his soul, Dean went to rest the gun on his bedside chest of drawers.

Then and only then did he sink onto the bed, his chest already heaving from uncontrollable sobs that filled the lonely room. A room that once used to be his safe haven. A place where he felt comfortable enough to lie for hours in the dark listening to music whilst the world around him didn't matter for just a little while. And now, he could feel the walls closing in like every damn wall in the bunker.

He wasn't gay.

He wasn't.

Dean allowed himself to fall backwards, his legs dangling over the sides of his bed. And he immersed himself in conflicting conversations and painful memories. Of losing Cas more than once and literally feeling as if his soul was being ripped into pieces. Remembering that the pain of grieving was far worst than spending time in hell. Their little fights. Their big fights that ended bloody. Always being able to patch things up. Except now, Cas had walked out on him because Dean went too far.

He tried to manipulate Cas over and over again and this time, whatever they had between them had been shattered into a million fragments. Bloody. That's all he remembered that night. Smashing the glass on the wall and then reaching for the tumbler of whisky. He smashed that on the edge of the mantelpiece and cut himself badly from the jagged edges. But the pain was nothing compared to the sound of that goddamn door slamming after Cas. When his blood drained down his arm, Dean wasn't even aware of the wound until hours after when he tried to drown himself under the shower of water cascading upon his face.

And now in his room alone, Dean really didn't feel suicidal. He felt as if he was a ticking time bomb that would internally explode and his being would cease to exist because of the tragedy of falling so helplessly in love.

* * *

**Xx**

"The whisky should help," Sam nudged the glass closer to his best friend. "Burns when it goes down, but it works wonders. Try it."

"I've already drowned in three liquor stores in a week," Cas confessed, no fire burning in his eyes anymore. "One glass of whisky wouldn't even numb the pain for one second."

"Man," Sam ran his fingers through flawless hair and settled back in his chair that creaked a little. "If I told you that he regrets every thing he's said and done to you, would you get better?"

"I don't care," Cas pushed the glass away with one finger and sighed. Arms folded on the table, his blue orbs finally settled on the folded sheet of paper next to Sam's beer.

What he felt when he recognized Dean's handwriting was possibly like the blast of Hiroshima examined from a seat in Heaven on a devastating day. Or when the sun scorched a field of beautiful flowers and his being burned bright with remorse. Of all the terrible things Cas could feel in a lifetime, nothing compared to Dean in that moment. Knowing that one man had literally shattered him into a billion pieces and the worst part of it all, was that this time, he had no idea if they would ever survive this. He was aware of Sam's friendship never fading in any situation. As daunting as this was, Sam had reached out to him several times. When he talked to the younger Winchester, Cas felt less alone and safer. He could be honest without being judged. He could expose his feelings and never fear a cold shoulder.

"He told me to give it to you," Sam said coldly. "I declined. Duh. And I told him to give it to you himself."

"I'm not going to read that," Cas said scowling. "Screw him."

"Right?" Sam leaned a little over the table and sympathized. "I mean, out of all the screw ups, this is by far the worst. Honestly? I am so pissed off at him right now, I can't even talk to him about anything else besides the cases we're working. And even then, it's like I keep thinking, how the hell could he even think for a moment that he had the right to talk to you like that."

Sam had been eavesdropping that night. After hearing Dean's outburst, of course he sprang up from the bed and rushed out, only to find another heated scene between his brother and his best friend. This time though, he was able to assess both sides as an outsider, equipped with enough knowledge to ascertain the idiot and the abused. And oh Chuck was Dean the idiot. To throw away every damn second Cas saved his ass. To turn a blind eye on every goddamn thing they had gone through together. Nah, it was too stupid to even warrant his sympathy for Dean.

"Maybe you should read it," Sam said frowning. "Or maybe I will. First." He raised his eyebrows, seeking permission.

"Go ahead," Cas rolled his eyes. "It's not mine. He's your brother. You mean something to him. I'm the one who's dead."

"Stop," Sam frowned deeper. "Come on, just because he thinks you're dead to him doesn't mean you ever will be to me. I care loads about you. We got this bromance thing going on for ages now. No way you'll ever be dead to me,"

"Thanks, Sam," Cas said softly. He finally decided to down the whisky in one go. And not a drop dulled his pain. Nothing could. Not when he was convinced that his time on earth had expired. It was an absolute fact.

"Cas", Sam began to read in a mocking tone, "I just couldn't do it, could I? I couldn't tell you exactly how I feel because eve I don't understand any of it. First of all," Sam flicked back his hair and supplied a scowl, "he understands every bit of it. He knows what's up since you _gripped him tight and raised him from perdition_." The last bit he supplied in a deep tone.

The other man smiled a little.

"Where the hell do we begin and end?" Sam continued reading. "I'll tell you where," he pointed a finger at Cas. "You began in hell and you ended last week. The way I see it, it was like witnessing a break up between a married couple. For ages I've been getting comfortable with the idea of you two marrying each other and riding into the sunset, me of course, in the backseat. But—"

"Sam," Cas jerked his chin at the letter. "Continue."

"Thought you didn't want to listen to his soppy excuse at explaining himself? Anyway," Sam cleared his throat, "If you claim that this is the end of us, then why do I feel as if it is also the end of my life too? Because bitch it is!" The younger Winchester exclaimed. "I've been trying to tell you over and over again how broken we are apart from each other…" he read on, "And yet," Sam scoffed, "he constantly pushes you away, almost as if he wants to be broken."

"Dean's problem is that he loves to put me in situations where I have no other choice but to walk away from him. And I've never done it. Not really," Cas explained in a wounded tone. "Every time he's called me, I've come. He never expects me to leave after he batters me with insults."

And yet this time had been different.

"I can't believe he volunteered you to jump into hell," Sam shook his head.

Cas sighed. "Playing the power card as usual. He loathes being submissive."

"Make sure that doesn't happen behind closed doors," Sam half laughed and nervously fumbled with the sheet of paper.

"Really, Sam?"

"Back to Dean's words from the ice box where his heart is," he cleared his throat. "I'm not angry at you because of mom. I'm angry at you because she actually predicted that I would eventually push you away." For some odd reason, the glint of humor in Sam's eyes dulled out. "She always believed that I would lose the one person I learned to love the most. She always told me that when she fell for my father, it wasn't easy because he saved her when she didn't need to be saved. And that's what you did."

The silence that stretched on between them was filled with a heaviness. Of guilt, maybe. Of mocking his brother. Sam was slowly beginning to realize that after all this time, maybe he had always read Dean's feelings wrong. Maybe Dean wasn't being a jerk because he refused to accept his feelings. Maybe his brother had already grown to accept himself, and was afraid to expose his vulnerability to Cas and himself.

Maybe, just maybe, all of this sudden anger after Mary's death was derived from frustration. Of not being able to find a convenient time to talk about himself to Sam. A break. When the world had been crashing down on them, Dean was crashing inwards on himself. And he couldn't run to Cas for a nice chat because Cas was the root of all the chaos. Cas was his undoing. No, maybe he needed Sam and the world would not allow a time out for either of them to meet and discuss and comfort.

But still Dean had no right. He really shouldn't have said those hurtful things.

"I can't call you because then I will have to talk to you and tell you how I feel and that I'm sorry," Sam continued as Cas' eyes filled with tears that leaked onto the sleeves of his trench coat. "And if I start to tell you those things, I will break down and when I cry, I feel so weak."

At first, he wasn't quite sure where the sound originated from, but then Cas suddenly buried his face into folded arms. And he began to sob uncontrollably. Sam would probably associate the sound Cas unearthed with the sound of a heart's last breath after its last beat. It was painful to have experienced that. And it was enough to silence Sam's attempts at making slight jokes when the situation was absolutely heartbreaking and gut wrenching and tragic and the worst kind of tragedy.

"Here", he said, pushing the letter a little under Cas' right elbow. "For keepsake. I don't know if you'll read the rest but he wants to talk to you. I guess I can't tell you what to do right now. I just feel that the two of you need space. Maybe being away from each other for awhile will reap good results. But for now, Cas," Sam lightly touched his best friend's right arm, "let it all out. Just…let the tears flow and…" His observation of the angel's collapse wasn't something to marvel over. But it was enough to prove to Sam that love did transcend worlds.

If an angel could fall in love with a human…then nothing in this world could convince him that love wasn't a powerful force.

Nothing.

"And don't feel alone in this," he said softly. "Don't ever feel alone. Sastiel still prevails. Forever and ever."

Cas smiled a little into his arm despite the tears.

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	3. Trying

**A/N - Gee. Thanks for all the reviews! I love you all so much. Especially Jessmart who follows my work through every fandom.**

**Xx**

Dean flipped on the light inside the kitchen and weakly helped himself to a cup of coffee that was lukewarm. All bets were off on him getting any shut eye, so why not fuel up on caffeine and ride the rest of the night out solo? Wallowing in guilt and shame and being completely and utterly love sick to the point where he literally felt weak in the damn knees now. Wondering if Sam would hand the letter over to Cas. Anticipating their reunion to Dean, was like facing the end of the world entirely frightened but knowing that it wouldn't hurt to die out like a flame.

He was a wreck.

_Something went wrong._

_Then why does that something always have to be you?_

"Oh God," Dean scrambled fistfuls of his disheveled hair and pulled a little, groaning as his chest hurt from so much pain. Of realizing that he shouldn't have said what he did.

He shouldn't have allowed his anger to cloud his judgement and he shouldn't have blamed Cas for any of it. Because he cared for Jack too. He really did. They were beginning to bond. They had kind of a father-son thing going on for a while and it was much more between Cas and Jack. Cas loved Jack like his own son. He remembered finding it painfully funny that in a way, the two of them were like a gay couple parenting a kid.

And when that kid got out of control, like two parents cohabitating, Dean blamed the other parent. Cas. He blamed him for letting Jack get so out of control. For being blind to the obvious when Dean himself had been trapped in the same delusion that Jack was in a controlled state. That Jack was able to stabilize his powers and make things work.

Dean blamed Cas because he blamed himself as well.

He didn't turn his eyes internally to judge himself. Instead, he projected outwards and lashed out. Which pretty much made everything afterwards Cas' fault. Because Rowena's death wasn't anyone's fault. She made the choice to ultimately sacrifice herself. Cas didn't force her hand. So why the hell had he stupidly blamed every damn thing on the one person he simply could not live without? How on earth could he become so damn selfish, so self-conceited and cold?

Swallowing the last bit of coffee, Dean buried his face into folded arms and felt so cold, even his dry sobs couldn't produce any tears. Because he had cried enough. He had died enough. He was still suffering. And the only way out of this fresh hell was to face Cas.

It took Sam two weeks to even consider the possibility of going along with Dean's plan.

Within that time, Sam thoroughly enjoyed himself. He also enjoyed binge watching Lucifer. But then when he realized that his brother was literally going an entire day without eating. And Dean was evidently self-harming with little pricks appearing on his arms from his knife, Sam gave in. Not because he hated that Dean was wallowing in guilt. But he feared the worst for his brother because it appeared that this time, even someone like Dean could be capable of falling into a dangerous pit of depression. And a depressed Dean was frightening.

Dean was capable of many things. He had experienced the worst kind of pain in hell. However, love was apparently killing his brother and Sam wasn't joking about this bit at all. There was only so much you could turn a blind eye on. But when he realized that Dean began to lose weight and really and truly curl up for hours on end crying in his room, Sam gave up all the anger he felt and he pushed his way in like a tropical storm ready to uproot all the pain.

Firstly, he literally stripped Dean's room of all beddings, blankets, pillow cases, clothes, socks, blinds and leftover boxes. And then he dragged Dean into the shower, turned on the hot water and locked him in there for an hour. The groans and painful cries for him to be let out didn't sway Sam. Even as he tossed everything into the washing machine and ran the cycle two times over. Later though, after finding Dean curled up on the bed in the spare room where Cas oftentimes slept, his heart melted. The scene was so soft. So…memorable. He took a photo and sent it to Cas without hesitation.

Sam: He misses you. I think it's time.

Cas: is that my bed?

Sam: yeah. I tossed his entire room into the washer. Goes without saying that I'm ready for an intervention.

Cas: I'm sitting on a bench by the Loch in Scotland, Sam. The scene is breathtaking and yet…all I can think about is him. I passed through Venice yesterday. I saw a man that looked like him and I started crying. Will I ever stop crying, Sam?

Sam: Aw Cas. Wouldn't make you feel better to know this. But Dean's been drowning in tears for hours every day. It's not getting better on this end. I'm going to fix this.

Cas: How?

Sam: Do you have a pen and paper in hand reach?

Cas: If you are going to suggest that I write a poem to Dean, then I'm afraid that I can fill several books with verses about how I feel.

Sam: I have something else in mind. Okay, get this…

And later in the evening, he prepared the cheesiest bacon sandwich and frowned deeply when Dean refused to eat. He even lost interest in a Terminator marathon. He slumped sideways on the couch and stared at the bad carpeting of the room until Sam cleared his throat.

"I think I have the flu, Sammy," Dean croaked, holding out his right hand as he slowly flexed his fingers. "It's bad. My entire body aches. I can't eat, or sleep."

"That's not the flu," Sam shook his head in disbelief. "Dude, that's what heartbreak feels like."

"Hmmph," Dean sunk lower into the couch, hugging himself. "I just want to die right now."

"Naw," Sam said softly, sympathizing. "Dying wouldn't make it better. Because then Cas will find any way there is to bring you back and if he can't bring you back, then he will hate himself."

"He hates me," Dean croaked. "He wouldn't care. I made a fool of myself. I did the one thing I always had nightmares about. I chased him away. I—" holding his hands out in front of him, Dean studied his trembling fingers and a long sigh escaped from between parted lips. "Sam, I miss him so much."

They survived in silence for a while. The television was turned down low. It was possibly a little after midnight but neither of them were tired enough to leave the conversation where it had ended up. And Sam wasn't going to bed until Dean ate at least half of the sandwich he made.

"Come on," he said, poking the triangle of bread under his brother's nose. "Take a bite."

"No," Dean scowled, pushing the snack away.

"Extra bacon…" Sam teased. "Come on, man. Don't let the good stuff go to waste. Besides, you'll need something in your stomach for what I'm about to propose. Eat this and I'll help you get Cas back."

Green eyes peeped out from under his folded arms. Dean blinked up at his brother. Then slowly, he pried the sandwich from Sam's grasp and he nibbled on it.

"Who's a good doggie?" he patted Dean on his head quite amused.

"Bitch," his brother returned.

Sam countered with "jerk!" and settled once again on the couch. "Now, before I begin to tell you anything, anything at all, I want you to admit that you were wrong, Dean. And trust me, if you don't think that you were, then I can't—"

"I was completely wrong," Dean interrupted, crouched into a comma upon the couch as he chewed on the sandwich slowly. "You have every right to hate me for what I did. I hate me for what I did."

Completely unexpected, Maybe he was right after all. There was an underlying issue here, something they both needed to tackle and quickly. Because Dean was flailing, his psyche screwed up totally. And the only way to ascertain what was really happening was to get underneath his brother's skin.

He wasn't a therapist. Nah. But he had a few qualities that seemed to exhibit enough trust and sympathy. People liked when he listened to them. They liked when he offered advice because hell, he had a bunch of experience up his sleeve. Enough to know that everyone had their reasons. Everyone was different. And like his brother, there were lots of people out there who felt like burying the hurt and the truth for as long as possible without expelling the pain by having a conversation about it.

Sam was aware of Dean's low self-esteem for ages now. Years and years, since they were younger and on the road with their father. Oftentimes, Dean used to fall into a depressed state that was only cured by hunting. Now though, he was dangerously hanging on the brink of suicide and the last thing Sam needed was to lose his chance at trying to listen to Dean's side of things.

"You could always talk to me, Dean," Sam provided in an assuring tone. "I don't know why you didn't. Maybe yeah we didn't have the time out to get things out in the open. But hey, you could have dropped a line to let me know what was going on. Instead, I had to sit on the sidelines and guess my way pretty much through ten years tops. And I know, Dean," he said when his brother gave him a frightened look. "I know how you feel about Cas. I've known for a long time. Maybe even before you realized it."

"That obvious, huh?"

Sam sighed. "That painful to watch. All the eye sex and excess drama. The favoritism. Plus there was Benny. Ketch."

"Wait, what?" Dean stared in bewilderment at his brother. "What about Benny and Ketch?"

"Dean, come on!" Sam let out with a look of disbelief. "Benny is as gay as they come and you pairing up with him made me realize that Purgatory blew your feelings wide open. You came back topside with this vampire that you trusted completely, believing the best in him despite our past experiences with pitying the things we hunt."

"First of all," Dean's cheeks turned crimson, "Benny isn't gay. He had a wife and kids."

"Just like you had Lisa and Ben and you're were as straight as Elton John. Dude," Sam shook his head, "bisexuality does exist. You're safe."

His brother was bisexual. Wow. Come to think of it, He had figured it out long before Cas. But to finally take the time to examine the meaning of it all? Did this mean that all the time when Dean hopped from bar to bar and had one night stands, maybe there were a few guys involved too? Did Dean ever take a guy to the motels whilst they were on a hunt?

"And what about Ketch?" Dean asked, knitting his brows. "What the hell could make you think that I had any kind of feelings for that son of a bitch?"

"Cas thought you had," Sam folded his arms.

"C—" Dean fumbled on the name. "What?"

"I mean the accent probably caught you. And he's good looking," Sam shrugged. "Nothing wrong with lusting over a—"

"Sam," Dean pinched the tip of his nose, eyes squeezed shut, "don't. I'm really not in the mood for jokes right now. I'm telling you, man. I'm not doing great at all. I've never felt this way in my life. It's like my own body is killing itself slowly and I can't do anything about it."

"Mediator," Sam said unfolding his arms.

"Huh?" Dean stared.

"Between you two," the younger Winchester cleared his throat. "I'll bring you two together and act as a mediator. There are things the two of you need to get out of your systems and since you can't seem to meet on your own, then I'll plan everything and make it happen."

Dean immediately froze up, his green eyes glazed over as he finally realized that the moment would eventually arrive when the two of them would have to face each other. Whether he favored the meeting or not, it was bound to happen. But this time, he would be the one who had fucked up and Cas would be coming to the table as the victim. He felt like shit. Dean wanted to have his brother there yeah, but then he didn't want him to witness any of it because…

Because Dean wouldn't be capable of showing his weakest side, a side Sammy really never witnessed because why? Because he always sucked it up and showed a brave face for his brother. If he did shed a few tears then fine. But he wouldn't fold up for more than a night. He would get up and hunt. Now though, everything was so different.

Cas did that to him, didn't he? Cas peeled away his layers and exposed the raw, tarnished soul within. The intimate part of him where they were connected. Bonded by a touch in hell. And just when he thought that it couldn't get any worst, Cas had walked out on him.

"You'll need a pen and paper for this next part," Sam was saying, but his voice was distant. "To write down two things."

"What?" Dean blinked rapidly and tried to focus on his brother's face that loomed about two feet away from his. "What am I writing down?"

"First; Five things that you want to tell Cas you're sorry for." Handing his brother two sheets of lined pages as if he had already been equipped with them, Sam didn't detest the fact that he had to bruise Dean a lot with the task. He welcomed it as finally being able to push his brother enough.

However, it appeared as if the request simply broke the older Winchester because he stared at Sam without blinking. Then the tears slipped down his cheeks and wiping them away, Dean finally touched the pen to the page and he started to write. Wobbly. Not his usually scrawl but more evident now of being terribly affected. Of knowing that the task would require all he could muster up.

He wrote slowly. Not too sure of himself but breaking down after every line as his guts wrenched and his head grew dizzier. And still Sam persisted. Still Sam urged him to continue. To finish the lines. To elaborate a little more and to be completely honest.

"I'm not going to judge you, Dean."

"I know. It's just…"

Sam waited. Then when nothing else was said by his brother, he cleared his throat. "What's holding you back?"

"I want to…" Dean's voice cracked,

"You want to what, Dean?" Sam frowned. Evidently, his brother was struggling. Which really was what the task was supposed to do. Not to be an easy one. But for some odd reason, something else was terribly wrong. Something that had been nudging him for a while now.

"I want to tell him that I'm sorry that he was given the job of rescuing me from hell because…" Dean choked on a sob. The sound wrenched the younger Winchester's gut a little.

"It's okay," Sam pressed a hand upon the older Winchester's shoulder. "Breathe. Come on. We're getting somewhere."

Dean attempted to take a deep breath. "Because if we didn't meet, then maybe everything would have been easier—"

"No, Dean," Sam interrupted, immediately wounded by the confession. "You don't mean that. Look, I always like to think that everything happens for a reason. Cas was given the job to save you for a reason—"

"Because Chuck had this planned out?" Dean croaked, staring at Sam in bewilderment. "Do you realize how screwed up that coincidence is now? That the one person who he sent to rescue me from hell ended up being the one person who I can't live without? I am sick of not being able to make my own choices—"

"Dean—"

"If I had to make a choice, I wouldn't go down this path at all," Dean continued in as much passion as ever. "Sammy, I wanted a normal life. I wanted to settle down when all of this was over. Believe it or not, as much as I preach going out with a bullet, I always thought I would get a chance to live in a house with a wife and kids. Two. Maybe a dog with Baby parked in the driveway and you and…some sexy lawyer as your wife coming over for drinks and Thanksgiving—"

"Dean, it's not like—"

"I didn't want this, Sam –"

"But you got it anyway, Dean!" the younger Winchester exclaimed in a sense of providing clarity on reality. "You're here. And we're not normal. We were never normal. You always used to tell me when I was a kid that normal is boring. So what now? You want to revert to having a superficial love where someone like Lisa bakes you pies and you take Ben to football games? Because you can't anymore, Dean. You can't have that. And you will never have a normal life." Sam hated that he knocked reality into those wet green eyes but he had to.

Dean lowered his head and with lips bitten, he inhaled deeply.

"That's not the life you're supposed to live," Sam provided in a softer tone now. "You can have all of that with someone like Cas. Heck, you've always had that with Cas right here in the bunker. He used to wake up on Sundays and bake you a pie, you remember that? Waking up to the smell of pies? How you'd drag yourself out into the kitchen and watch him fuss around just to put a smile on your face?" Sam settled back into the couch and observed his brother's face contorting from memories.

"Cas used to make coffee and take a cup to your room. He used to wake you up an hour later when you went out on hunts and came back exhausted. He would sit here and stare at the clock until he was contented that you had enough sleep. I don't know what's more hurtful right now, Dean," Sam frowned. "The fact that you actually think that being with Cas is something profoundly new. Or the fact that you don't want to be with someone like Cas because he's not normal."

"I just wanted something easy," Dean mumbled.

"If love ends up being easy then it's not worth it at all," Sam reassured him. "The best kind of love is what you have right now. Dude, I wish if someone made a mixtape for me with her favorite songs. I wish that I could find a female version to Cas because he literally would do anything to make you happy. But you see that's the problem. Cas always ran after you like a puppy and you ended up thinking that he would never walk out on you. And look what happened. You pushed him too far and now he's somewhere in Scotland on a bench hating himself for loving you."

The silence that hung in the air afterwards was terrible on Dean's part. After all, everything Sam had elaborated on was the truth. The painful truth. Most of all, it wasn't like Dean was receiving new information. Everything that Sam had said did become a taken for granted situation. He never realized that Cas waited an extra hour, just so that he could sleep enough. He never continued to appreciate that Cas made the best pies. He never realized that Cas was always there when he called, no matter when.

"You said you want kids," Sam said softly, focusing on the television. "You and Cas both had Jack. In more ways than one, I used to seriously feel like he was created from the two of you. And then Jack became nothing to you because he couldn't control his powers. And he did the worst thing possible. An unforgiving thing. I get that. But afterwards, not once did you ever sit down and think about how Cas felt to lose someone who was like the child he could have with you, Dean. He always pressed you to spend time with Jack just because he wanted to imagine maybe that the two of you could parent a kid."

That was enough for Dean. Enough in a sense that he began to feel so cold, his fingertips numb, knees weak, the entire room tilted a little, And a slight wave of nausea swept over him. Because facing reality for him had always been hard since an angel of the Lord waltzed into that barn years ago. Since he tried to stab him and realized in bewilderment that Cas wasn't their normal kind of monster.

Cas was never normal. Nothing about him screamed normal.

"Is this hard for you because Cas is a guy?" Sam dared to ask, carefully studying his brother's demeanor as he grew quite pasty.

Dean shrugged, face buried in his hands. "Yeah? Of course it is."

"And if he was a she, then you'd already be rolling around in the sheets? Because it can't be that he's an angel. You've gone all the way with Anna before. I know that you slept with more than one demon when we were separated a while back. So…"

"Look, it's not like he makes it easy either," Dean interjected, an angry glint in his green eyes.

Sam sighed. "Okay, sure. And how exactly does an angel who constantly pines over you make it hard to love him?"

"You say that like if he's not to blame for anything that's ever happened," Dean said hoarsely. He reached for the other sandwich and nibbled on it. "Cas made some bad choices before. The Leviathans, always trying to play God. Look how many times he screwed up and I'm just done."

"You're done…" Sam's face was grim now. "Is that why you practically tossed him into hell? Because you think that he deserves to be punished for what he did –"

"No!" Dean cried in fatigue, eyes watering as he glared at his brother. "I'm just so…angry at him and I don't know why! I just know that I am. I'm fed up with the choices he makes and how arrogant he can be sometimes. He never listens. Never!"

Sam sighed. "Just like he never listened to me when I told him that he was a fool for falling for someone like you."

Immediately Dean's eyes widened. He stared at his brother and was entirely speechless. In fact, the need to say something was on the tip of his tongue but shock provided a full stop.

"He came to me one night," Sam elaborated in a softer tone, "I think it was around the time Bobby died. And he asked me if you would ever consider him as a love interest. I said heck no. Get out of here. But he persisted. He told me that the way he felt about you was weakening him and he was being seen as a rebellious angel in Heaven because of his feelings."

Dean stared into space for a long time, perhaps pondering on the actuality of Cas sparingly providing that kind of information. Was it okay to admit that he was infuriated over the fact that nothing ever stayed long with him when he decided to jump over from like to love? Having Cas as a best friend had been traumatic. When he died more than once, Dean had felt like his heart had been ripped out over and over again. And he didn't want to feel that way ever again that's why he had been shoving him away lately.

Because if you managed to keep your weakness at a distance, then maybe you were much safer and stronger. But he wasn't stronger now. Boy had he been wrong about this. He had it all planned out. Use Rowena as an excuse for a fight and then they would go at it for a while. They would throw bitter words back and forth. He would suddenly grow silent whilst Cas glared at him. Whilst Cas recollected how he had been constantly used as a pawn piece. And then he would distance himself.

What Dean hadn't been prepared for was that Cas realized immediately how he couldn't look at him. How he couldn't talk to him like they used to before. But Cas read into it all wrong. He thought that Dean was pissed off about Mary's death. He was. Oh hell he was. But he had stopped blaming Cas because it was ridiculous to continue holding bitter resentment as compared to the years of fuck ups they both shared. Cas had no idea of the magnitude of this trauma Dean was experiencing deep down inside.

He had no idea how most of his nights were spent in agony. Night sweats and terrible dreams. Anxiety consuming him. Countless times staring at his gun and itching to be taken out. To make the pain stop. He needed help and he was afraid of asking for it. He was afraid of believing that he could possibly be self-destructing.

And so, when Dean began to write once more, he did so with the kind of fervor that was fueled by a volcanic eruption of feelings. The pen moved across the page as Sam stared in awe then contentment. And after ten minutes tops, Dean had written a full five points and was terribly exhausted.

"Now," Sam said handing him another sheet of paper, "I want you to write down five things you don't like about Cas and five things you love about him. Go." Sitting back, he absorbed the shocked look plastered on Dean's face and smiled. "What? I told you love wasn't easy."

"Yeah but you're making me spill out my freaking feelings like a girl, here!" Dean lamented. "Men don't do this kind of crappy chick flick things."

"And see right there?" Sam gestured at him with a finger, "that's your biggest problem."

"What?" Dean asked pissed off already.

"You hate talking about your feelings and every single time you get yourself into this mess!" Sam was infuriated already. "How the hell are you supposed to fix this if you're not willing to be openly honest? Do you think that Cas will magically mend things with you without an explanation?"

"You're asking me to list five things I love about him," Dean licked his lips. "Okay, I love his eyes, his hair, his mouth, his hands and his voice. That's it."

"God, you're so shallow!" Sam said in disbelief. "Go deeper than that, Dean!"

"His eyes remind of the…ocean. His hair always looks like he's just had the best sex ever. His mouth is…screw that," Dean's cheeks actually turned crimson and his brother was entirely amused. "Shut up. His hands are just soft and yet he's so strong. It's so contradicting. And his voice…Shut your face!" he demanded, totally embarrassed as Sam hid behind his fingers and chuckled softly. "You're enjoying this. I hate you."

"No, it's adorable!" Sam insisted with a wide grin. "I like it. I really do but I don't think that telling Cas he has bed sex hair will make him forgive you. You might come off as offensive, maybe implying that he's an angel whore or something. Nah. Go deeper."

"I'm hating you so much right now," Dean balled up the paper and collected another with a scowl. "I need time to work on this in my room. Not with your…heart eyes focused on me. Bye." He rose up and left, mumbling something about fairytales and princesses and ponies, to which Sam found entirely funny, he threw back his head and laughed.

**A/N - This is going good! I like it**


	4. Fearful

When Sam called Cas the following evening to explain the plan, he was suddenly yanked halfway across the world. His butt hit a wooden bench hard and his lanky form folded forward as the whistle of the wind immediately surrounded them.

"What the hell, Cas!" Rubbing the back of his neck, the younger Winchester turned to observe the angel limply sitting forward on the bench next to him.

"Corentyne River, South America," he said in greeting, his voice reminding Sam of Dean's top five things he loved about the guy. "If you look closely, you can see the fatigued fisherman casting his net several times in attempt to catch catfish. I've been sitting here for over an hour and he still hasn't filled his cooler."

"Really Cas?" Sam's eyes fixated on the small blue and white boat a few yards away from them. "You dragged me all the way over here to show me a dude fishing?"

"I spend my time these days in solace as I try to find something to distract me from D—" he stopped, failing terribly at that one name that suddenly forced him to blink rapidly. "Well, perhaps it's not working."

"It's not going to," Sam provided in a softer tone. "Not until the two of you sit down and talk. Like…really talk about your feelings."

"The net has a gaping hole in it," Cas suddenly said, narrowing his mesmerizing blue eyes. The sun was sinking low in the west, and the sky was dusted with pink and orange. "I wonder if he is aware of the hole?"

"So I brought paper and a pen," Sam went on as if Cas' suddenly amazement in fishing was totally normal. "I figure that we could start on your side of things now."

"I'm not writing him a love letter," Cas stated, fixing his squinted eyes at the younger Winchester.

"Nah, nothing like that. More like five things you're sorry for in regards to him."

"Is that all?" Cas asked sarcastically, and his tone shocked Sam immediately as he scrutinized the other man's countenance and discovered a raw kind of anger.

"Come on. You're my best friend. I know that you still love him, Cas. I really do. And I know that you want to patch up things as much as he does—"

"I'm not going back, Sam."

"Cas…come on."

"Sam!" the angel suddenly cried out hoarsely, "I'm not going to run back to him because he has broken every part of me that was capable of feeling love. It was my biggest mistake and I should have never allowed myself to hope. Love makes you weak. Weaker than I could have ever imagined because my power is at barely minimal now. I've observed humans for many centuries and I've seen what love does. It doesn't make you stronger. Only fools fall in love because it is a folly game."

Sam sighed. This was never going to be easy. Never. Only the guilty believed that pouring as much effort into making amends would suffice. Which was what Dean had done. He had spent the entire night with the light on in his room working on that damn essay about his feelings whilst Cas had simply had enough. He had reached his breaking point.

"Okay, I understand," he said, feeling defeated already. "I get ya. Totally. You're done with him and no matter if he is on the brink of killing himself with guilt, you're not going to make the effort to talk things through."

Cas stared at him for a long time, and Sam couldn't read his facial expression. "Did he tell you to do this?"

"No!" Sam was genuinely offended. "I'm doing this because I want to patch things up between the two people that matter the most to me. I can't watch the two of you fall apart like this anymore. You're bouncing around the globe trying to get over him, Cas. And it's not working. Don't you want to at least try to listen to what he has to say? He's done his part," Sam gestured at the paper and pen. "Dean's gone all pasty, losing weight and out of his mind over this—"

"Guilt does that," Cas said flatly. "He had no right abusing his power over me like that. He knows that I am at his disposal and he abused that."

"He's sorry."

"I don't care, Sam. I'm better off without him because you know why?" Cas' eyes filled with tears, eyes as wide as saucers. "I am not his definition of a happy ending but he's mine and he will be the end of me. Honestly."

"If you're referring to the Empty then like you told me, it doesn't matter, does it? You were the one who said that you would rather have Dean and then have all of it end instead of not having him at all. Don't you want to know what being loved by him could feel like?"

"Right now it feels like my vessel is dying," Cas stated in a weak tone. "My celestial being is burning out. In a manner of speaking, I really don't believe that I need to wait on the Empty to consume me. Because I am already dying. And guess what, Sam? Dean doesn't care."

They sat in silence for a long time. Until the sky turned a deep shade of velvet and a sprinkle of stars appeared. The lights came on around them, casting a light shade of yellow upon the pages in Castiel's lap. And then just like that, he touched the pen to the paper and began to write in his own neat way.

"I'll do this for you," he said simply, frowning at the paper as he penned his feelings. "You're the bestest friend I have ever had, Sam. For that, I thank you. But know this," the pen's tip hovered above the paper as he looked at the younger Winchester, "I am not going to be persuaded by what he has written on a paper. I need him to prove to me that I am meaningful and I am not taken for granted ever again. And I will never ever expect Dean to speak to me the way he did in our last meeting, ever again," Cas said in a stiff tone. "If he does, neither of you will be able to locate me because I will leave earth and never return again. Understood?"

It was then when Sam realized that perhaps Castiel was openly offended but still hopeful since he remained in this fucked up world of theirs.

Offering a quick smile, Sam felt a little hopeful too. "Understood."

* * *

Dean had his headphones on. But when the rest of the world was supposed to be tuned out of his aching head, the music was just background music.

His racing mind played around with wounding thoughts. Terrible thoughts. None of this was entirely real, was it? His feelings for Cas had to be fabricated. Had to be part of Chuck's screwed up plan. And worst of all, Dean honestly believed that whatever he felt for Castiel was a big lie.

Why?

If a god, an entity could manage to control every single person's life, then wasn't it possible that every damn thing he and Cas went through was fabricated? Wasn't this part of a story Chuck probably sat at his damn typewriter and amused himself over? Mulling over it was proving to be a constant pain in the ass.

Why Cas?

Every time Cas died, he was brought back to life. Why? Because Chuck wanted him on earth to prove something. To prove that Dean could be manipulated into doing exactly what he wanted him to. Not giving a damn what he really and truly wanted. And just when he thought that someone could love him without reason, just when Dean thought that he was capable of being appreciated and considered as everything more than a friend…Chuck reminded them that he had the deck of cards in his hand and had always been playing them exactly as he wanted.

So was any of this real?

What he felt for Cas, was it real? Or was it just part of a conniving scheme to send Dean crashing into a pit of darkness and death sooner than later? Because if he willed himself to become accepting of the magnitude of his feelings for Cas, then Dean was about to take a plunge into a scenario he had never delved into. Could it be possible that despite Chuck, Dean and Cas had grown as an exception to what was expected of them? That they had grown out of the planned story and formed one of their own?

Groaning, he yanked the headphones off and tossed it towards his feet. Too cold to sleep tonight, Dean rose up weakly and his footsteps padded towards the bathroom that he and Sam shared.

He felt fatigued. Lately, beer wasn't working. So he had switched over to the hard stuff: whisky, bourbon, never vodka. He hated vodka. But alcohol could never numb the pain. Never permanently. If he consumed enough, he woke up feeling like he had been dragged from Texas to New York and back and then the feelings returned. The doubts. The fear.

Dean pulled open the doors to the cabinet where they stored their medicinal supplies. And his fingers lightly brushed the bottle of Prozac that had Sam's name on the label. Then the Xanax. Then the bottle of Advil gel caps.

He needed to relax. He really needed to because he couldn't sleep and it had been literally two weeks since. So pulling out the bottle of Xanax, Dean downed five with a mouthful of whisky. Then deciding to keep the bottle for reasons beyond his level of logically thinking straight, he headed to his room. Half an hour later, he passed out cold on his bed, sleeping into the late hours of the morning.

Sam, of course, was worried when the clock struck eleven and his brother didn't show. After checking to ensure that he was breathing, the younger Winchester left the bunker in search of snacks. They would need snacks for the meeting tonight. More like an intervention. Then again, maybe no one would have an appetite, would they? Just incase the Empty arrived to consume Cas, he had a backup plan. They would all hold onto Cas and never let go.

He was going to go down with this ship, seriously.

Sam pulled out his cellphone and decided to remind Cas about tonight, because the angel probably was in India eating curry.

Cas: Yes. Of course. I am malfunctioning. I might punch him.

Sam: No violence, Cas. Punch him with words. But we're sticking to me being the mediator. Just go with the flow.

Cas: Last night there was a full moon in Australia. I thought…what if Dean was a werewolf. Then I remembered I detest excessive body hair.

Sam: Gross. Heading out now. See ya later.

Cas: Buy pie. Lots of it.

He smiled to himself as Castiel's wealth of knowledge on the perks of Dean Winchester showed itself constantly. Just two weeks ago before their fall out, the bunker had fallen short of beer. And it so happened that all the stores around their immediate vicinity were out of stock of Dean's favorite brand. Lo and behold, Castiel scoured the earth for the particular brand that refreshed Dean's palette. And Sam was left amused and glorified knowing that he was probably the biggest Destiel shipper in the world.

The meeting was expected to occur in the bunker but not in the main room since the memories could be stirred up about Dean and Cas' last confrontation. No. Instead, Sam chose the kitchen. Why? Because they would all have sufficient snacks available, the coffee machine, and more snacks. Providing that Dean didn't manage to consume the entire bowl of dip for the potato chips before time. Hence why Sam locked him in his room just for precaution.

He might run away, Sam thought to himself. Dean might suddenly decide that he couldn't comply with the arrangements. Or he could take Baby for a long drive and pretend like the time was forgotten. And Sam wasn't taking any chances this time. Cas and Dean had poured enough into preparations for this meetup after close to three weeks and nothing was about to ruin any part of it.

So at a quarter to seven, he unlocked Dean's bedroom door and bolted away after the sound of the shower stopped suddenly.

Rounding the corner and deciding that he would bring out the dip, Sam heard the crackle of a snack bag from within the kitchen. And upon tumbling into the room about to marvel over his brother's early show, when he noticed Castiel sitting at the table already, Sam felt a weight of anxiety lift off his chest.

He honestly, a little over an hour ago, thought that the angel wouldn't show. But now, Cas was carefully chewing on a potato chip, pensive. And peeking out of his shirt pocket, still not quite concealed by his trench coat, was a rolled up bit of paper, evidently the homework in preparation for the meeting.

"I came," Cas managed to point out the obvious.

Sam scratched the back of his neck and smiled. "Yeah. Gee. Thanks, man. This means a lot."

"Where is he?" Those blue eyes narrowed a little. "I'm giving this a fifteen minutes grace period before I return to my bench by the Loch."

"Why do you keep going back there?" Sam was curious as he sat down, reaching for a potato chip from the bag. "Are you looking for Nessie?" He offered Cas an amused expression.

"You might…be astonished to know that Nessie is not fictitious," Cas squinted a little. "She did exist in the loch until year 1101 when a drought took her life away. I used to watch her gloriously glide across the lapping waves."

"Sometimes I can't wrap my head around you being on earth since so long ago," Sam marveled over the thought. He tried to reach for the bag but Cas tugged it away, offering a petulant look. "Dude, come on! You're claiming the snacks already?"

"I was forced to come here," Cas reminded Sam with a small scowl. "The best you can do to maintain my presence is to feed me."

"You've spent too much time around him," Sam referred to his brother. "All he ever wants is to be fed."

Cas blinked, then glanced away, obviously conflicted after the mention of the connection. They had many connections, didn't they? Over and over again.

When Dean walked into the kitchen, he was wearing a dull pink and blue plaid shirt with faded blue jeans. His hair was damp and fuzzy. But he looked alright. And as Sam observed Cas' demeanor, he noticed how those blue eyes glinted a little, whether from fear or anger, the younger Winchester couldn't tell. But Dean softly entered the room and took his seat opposite Cas, almost as if the entire seating arrangements had been predetermined.

"Hey," he greeted with a small smile, his eyes briefly meeting blue ones. "Cas."

"Dean."

"Great," Sam clapped his hands in anticipation. "Let's begin.

"Wait," Dean piped up, fumbling a little with the papers in his grasp. He looked nervous all of a sudden, frayed around the edges as his sanity weakened. "Can I just admit before we do this, that I missed you…so much," tears stung his eyes. "You look…" he gestured at the other man seated across the table, and swallowed hard. "I'm sorry, I'll shut up now." Bowing his head bashfully, Dean bent the ends of the papers a little.

Sam waited a beat. He observed how Cas' eyes were stormy, reminiscent of a swirling static in the air that would only grow worst.

"I didn't miss you, Dean," Cas said stiffly, his words stabbing the air and the man sitting opposite him. "You look terrible. And I have nothing to apologize for. Now can we proceed?" he turned to stare at Sam who was obviously stunned. "I would like to leave here as soon as possible."

"Wow," Dean croaked, smiling incredulously and appearing completely wounded. "Go ahead, Sam," he pleaded with his brother, pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezed shut. "This is already a bad idea."

"Why is it?" Cas didn't spare a second. "But of course it is," the angel shook his head slowly, sitting back as he folded his arms. "You're always ignorant when it comes to your feelings."

"Me? Ignorant?" Dean retorted, his green eyes tearing up already. "You're the one that walked away from me. I didn't leave you."

"You forced my hand!" Cas returned heatedly, fists clenching. "Did you expect me to stick around so that you could constantly use me as your punching bag?"

Dean scoffed, folding his arms and sitting back. He sniffed as Sam intervened, obviously desiring them both to shut up and cease the disrespectful banter.

"I'll give us five minutes whilst I update Cas about our most recent case," the younger Winchester said softly. "Ample time for the two of you to settle down. I get that you're really mad at each other right now, but the only way we can get through this is to control the level of that anger building up between you two."

Whilst he explained that the most recent case involved another banshee, Cas relaxed as Dean attacked the chips and dip as predicted. Several times he rose up to collect some more coffee, the bags under those green eyes evident more than ever now. Then, after returning to the table, Dean just couldn't tear his gaze away from Cas. Not even to spare a second to consider his brother's incessant chatter. And it became so obvious he was pining over the angel, that occasionally Sam had to nudge his brother's foot under the table, trying to get him to turn down the gay.

But Dean just couldn't stop.

"They're not numerous in this part of the world," Cas was explaining to Sam as he broke a potato chip apart bit by bit absentmindedly. "Banshees are much more prevalent in the south of the world and I would only assume that…" suddenly his eyes connected with green ones and his speech faltered. He swallowed. "…I would assume that…um…" He stopped breathing when the evident soft look in Dean's eyes suggested that he was way past the point of breaking. "Well it's much more expected than normal in South America."

Marveling over the scene unfolding before him, Sam cleared his throat after a few seconds of prolonged gazing and then he decided to initiate the meeting. The substance of the intervention required a lot of tugging on nerves and feelings and emotions would run high. So the sooner he could get the two of them to open up, the better.

"Alright, so at this point," Sam pressed his fingertips together, appearing quite in control of things, "you've both written about the same topics. Now I know you had your doubts about what I asked you to do. But it's a technique I'm using that Jess and I did once. Well…many years ago," he confessed. "We went to a therapist and he gave us these exercises and this one in particular stuck with me."

"Okay, Doctor Phil," Dean provided. He immediately shied away as Cas shot a glare in his direction.

"So I asked you both to write down five things you want to say you're sorry for in regards to the other," Sam rested an elbow on the table and scratched his chin, his eyes flicking from one man to the other. "Dean." He jerked his chin at his brother.

The temperature in the room dropped significantly all of a sudden.


	5. Revelations

Dean swallowed down the lump in his throat and stared like a deer in the headlights at Sam. When he felt a sharp kick under the table, he immediately fumbled with the papers in his hands and brought forth the correct page. Then after scanning the words as if he was about to read out his death sentence, the older Winchester decided that he had to do this regardless of how long he decided to stall.

"Cas," he began in a voice that presented him to be quite certain of himself, "I am sorry that I was the one you had to save from hell because over the years I know that I've ruined your life to a point where you can't stand saving me anymore and I—"

"Can I interject?" Cas sounded terribly stunned.

"You can. But…you have to give each other the chance to finish what is being said. Only after he reads out his five points then you can contribute. Go on, Dean," Sam pleaded with a sympathetic look as his brother continued to stare with a gaping mouth at Cas.

For a while, just a while, the tension between them was so thick, you could literally cut through it with a knife. And fearing that this would eventually result in an explosive situation, Sam urged his brother again to continue.

"I'm sorry that I blamed you for all the wrong things that have happened in our lives," Dean croaked, the paper shaking as his hands trembled. "I didn't mean it the way you think I did. I didn't mean that every bad thing that has happened generally is your fault. Cas, I…" he stopped, inhaled and tried to compose himself, "I was talking about my feelings for you. And every single time I feel this way, I blame you because I can't shake you off. At all. How I feel about you reminds me of the possibility that this is part of Chuck's game to manipulate us and maybe what I'm feeling is not real."

Cas gazed at Dean for a long time afterwards, almost as if he was trying to fit everything together. Maybe he had misinterpreted the situation and maybe he had thought about those words a little too long since then. But he looked so deeply into Dean's eyes that Sam began to melt in his chair, evidently convinced that this little exercise was working.

"I'm sorry that I beat you up before when I had the mark of Cain," Dean shrugged. "I know that I told you before that I'm sorry about it, but I just wanted to tell you again because now…when I think about what you are to me, and where I want this to go between us, I don't ever want you to think for a moment, that I would hurt you. Physically. I'm not going to, ever again. And if I ever do, I give you permission to beat the hell out of me until I catch my senses again."

Cas was actually smiling. Something that caught Dean's attention and his lips tugged into a small smile too. "Challenge accepted."

The memories though weren't so painful in regards to that particular fight. It wasn't premeditated at all. What happened was an impulsive need to use his fists on anyone who threatened to dull his glow from the mark of Cain. And back then, all Dean did was beat everything to death. But he couldn't end Cas' life. And that small gesture was significantly treasured by the angel because he was certain at that point about the effect he had on Dean.

"I'm sorry that I try to control and tell you what to do. Like when I made the decision for you to jump into hell with that asshat. If I have to explain why I do that sometimes, is because…" Dean swallowed, trying to decide if what he had written made more sense. Deciding to fly impromptu, he cleared his throat. "Okay, it's like this, Cas. You make me feel so weak knowing that I'm in…" he swallowed hard. "Knowing that I have these feelings for you, it's hard for me to gain control of myself so because you're the one who makes me lose control, I try to take it back. I know it's selfish, it really is. But I do stupid things when I feel like I'm not in control. I don't like to feel weak at all. And you make me feel so unsure of myself, I need to be sure."

In truth, Sam realized that everything Dean had confessed so far was new to him except that he had apologized again about beating up Cas. So he sat there in solace for a few moments as they wallowed in silence together, and he really felt terrible because Dean didn't trust him enough to talk about these things. To expel how he felt. To at least mention something about him being completely in love with Cas. Because he was, wasn't he?

From where Sam sat, he had observed enough to gather the ultimate conclusion. That his brother had fallen head over heels in love with an angel and if that wasn't the most beautiful love story ever, then nothing else matched up.

"Last of all, Cas," Dean continued after dipping a chip into the bowl, "I'm sorry that I didn't tell you how I feel ages ago. I guess you know how hard this is for me. I've always been so stupid. And I wasted so much time believing that I didn't deserve to be loved. So I'm sorry that I never told you because if I did then we wouldn't be here now. And you wouldn't hate me."

"Cas," Sam gestured at his friend. "Now you can share what you think."

For a while, Cas just stared at Dean as the older Winchester busied himself by eating chips and dip. He was trying his best to avoid making any kind of eye contact with the angel and it was rather funny to watch and painful at the same time. Because Cas seemed as though he wanted Dean to look at him. He wanted this so much since the simple connection had been lacking for a long time now. And folding his arms on the table, he sighed.

"First of all, Dean," he began in a slow pace, "I volunteered to raise you from perdition after knowing who you were and your entire background. It wasn't impromptu. At first, even Heaven was unsure of giving an angel the task because when we tend to touch humans in our celestial form, you could combust. But it was done successfully and I will never regret what I did."

"Okay," Dean nodded, fearing that he couldn't say anything more in case Sam kicked him under the table.

"Secondly," Cas' blue eyes turned a sharper shade of blue, "Chuck is not responsible for us falling in love with each other. He might have desired it just to break us both. And he might have constantly brought me back after I died to accomplish that. But my feelings for you are not orchestrated by him because how I feel about you begins from deep within me. So deep inside of me that as I'm sitting here, terribly angry at you, I can feel how much I still love you. And I cannot fight it. So don't you dare blame anyone else for how you feel because this is real."

Dean's face contorted as tears filled his eyes. This was a little too much for him, And he hadn't anticipated how his chest would feel like exploding during the session. Biting his lips, he nodded. "Okay, Cas."

"Don't ever try to control me again, Dean," Cas warned in a low voice that was filled with so much hurt. "You're only going to push me away further from you and if you ever tell me what to do again, providing that I'm placed in a situation where my life is at risk, I will never forgive you. I will never come back to you and like I told Sam, you will never be able to find me in this world because I will leave for good."

Pleading how sorry and ashamed he was with himself, Dean nodded as he let out a shaky sob.

"Lastly, you never needed to confess your feelings to me, Dean," Cas' tone grew softer when he realized how terribly broken his words had left the older Winchester. "I can feel how you feel. And maybe that is why we never expressed our feelings verbally. Maybe that's why we're so comfortable around each other and have been for years. But there is no need for you to tell me. I already knew."

"Cas what are you talking about?" Dean stared in disbelief at the other man. "What the hell does that even mean? I never knew that you felt the same way about me. Son of a bitch," he swore under his breath and sat back, dumbfounded. "All this goddamn time he knew," this was directed at Sam. "He knew how I felt and he chose to shut up about it."

"Maybe he was waiting on you to make the first move?" Sam suggested.

Dean scoffed. "So this is my fault now?"

"Dean, no one is blaming you for never being open about something like this," Sam offered a sympathetic look. "But you never exactly made it easy to Cas to talk about his feelings with you. Cas," he said, urging the angel to pitch in, "tell him about the time when you were going to confess our feelings and what you found.

Hanging his head and playing with the potato chips bag, Cas sighed. "I appeared in the motel room and you were with a red head woman in bed."

"Guess you had bad timing," Dean scowled.

"Are you for real right now?" Sam stared at his brother in awe.

"Yeah, I'm for real right now!" Dean retorted, obviously growing infuriated. "Because every goddamn one night stand I scored, was me trying to get over him. This is ridiculous."

"That's supposed to make me feel better?" Cas' eyes flashed. "That you chose to exert your anxiety over talking to me by sleeping with someone else? You are the one who is ridiculous right now."

"I'm not going to sit here and pretend that I'm perfect," Dean seethed, leaning a little over the table. "Because you know that I'm not. You knew what the hell you were walking into—"

"I didn't choose to fall in love with you!" Cas cried suddenly, slamming his fists on the table and rattling the bowl containing the dip. "You…idiot."

"Well then I'm sorry that you did," Dean countered, tears filling his eyes. "Because guess what, Cas? You ended up falling for a fuck up of a man who was so broken when you raised him from hell, that he still can't hold his shit together. I'm never going to be perfect. I'm never going to give you the perfect life—"

"I never asked you to be perfect, Dean," Cas' voice broke as he did inside. Those blue eyes glistened and he blinked the tears away. "I never asked you to be anyone but yourself. I knew what I was walking into. I know that you favor women above all. And maybe I am the only man that you ever had feelings for—"

"Have," Dean interrupted, his green eyes taking on a flat color. "I still have feelings for you. I'm still in love with you. But hey. It's not fair though," Dean's voice trembled as he strained his eyes on Cas. "All these years I thought that you could never love me in the way I love you. All these years, Cas, I wanted you in…so many ways. I gave up one night stands eventually. The only person I dreamed of spending Valentine's day with was always you. And when Sammy wanted to know why, I couldn't tell him that I wanted no one else as much as I wanted you in every single way."

"Maybe it doesn't affect you the way it affects me. Maybe you don't crave what I crave. But it drives me…crazy knowing that you're a celestial…being…and you probably don't ever think or dream about us…kissing for the first time but it drives me insane because it's all I ever dream about."

Sam, in no way felt uncomfortable. In fact, he felt like he had accomplished more than he had expected because as a mediator, he was witnessing first hand what his brother had never been strong enough to tell him before. All the times he just wanted to talk to him, to get him to open up.

Why did Dean lock himself in his room after hunts to cry? Why couldn't he sleep? Why did he keep significant distance between himself and Cas? Why did he get itchy when Cas asked to ride in the front seat with him? All these things he was left to make assumptions on his own and now that his brother was opening up, Sam realized that he loved him even more for being so beautifully flawed. For carrying around this kind of heavy burden for years without talking about it.

"Dean," Cas said after a long stretch of time had passed. Tears had clouded his blue eyes. "I committed the ultimate sin by desiring to kiss you from the moment I raised you from hell. When I rebelled for you against Heaven, it wasn't taken lightly because every angel in my garrison knew. They teased me about it. They asked me why I decided to inhabit a male vessel instead of a female one. Had I been a female like Anna, then maybe you would have kissed me without hesitation instead of spending so many years dreaming of the possibility."

His words literally tore Dean apart afterwards because Castiel's jealousy towards Anna was always considered but never voiced by the angel himself. Now, those blue eyes were stormy and displayed terrible hurt. So much hurt as Cas pressed a shaky hand to his lips and he inhaled deeply, tears slipping down his cheeks and staining the arm of his trench coat. And Dean…Dean wanted to hold him so much. He wanted to kiss him so much. All he felt was so much pain.

"You broke…my heart when I found out that you slept with her," Castiel said in a hurt tone. "When I walked into that barn many years ago and witnessed the way she looked at you, I began to feel for the first time after inhabiting a vessel. Something I have never felt before in my existence on earth. I wanted to know why you would choose her over me when we shared such a profound bond already. And then many years later, I realized that it was simply because of my physical appearance. You are angry that I am not what you would consider as normal.

"I need to…" Dean suddenly rose up from his seat and he appeared quite pasty and weak, "…go for a while. I'll be back," he said and without waiting on any approval from Sam, he dashed out of the kitchen.

This was not happening to him. He had promised to refrain from breaking down like this.

When he had rounded two corridors, Dean crumpled onto the floor and he started to cry, sobbing uncontrollably into his arms. He wanted to scream. He clawed his arms and pulled at his hair. He rolled onto his side and didn't even care if they found him in a fetal position because it didn't matter anymore. Nothing else mattered but Cas. Cas was his world. His everything and to realize that he had broken Cas' heart so many years ago by being with Anna; it was terrible.

Why had he even done it? She had been so vulnerable and so had he. Truth be told, Dean now wondered if he had slept with her because of his conflicting feelings for Cas. Maybe it was that. Maybe when he first met him, he fell in love. And maybe he had been so damn confused yet certain that it couldn't be love. That he couldn't be in love with a man, because that was the truth, wasn't it? It wasn't that Castiel was an angel that screwed with him. It was his vessel.

"I should go," Cas said weakly as they waited ten minutes for Dean and he didn't show up. "Away, I mean. Back to the Loch."

"No," Sam said softly, pressing a hand on his friend's arm reassuringly. "Don't. Wait for him."

"He's not coming back, Sam."

"He will. Trust me."

"I broke him," Cas said, hiding his eyes behind trembling hands. "I can hear him crying. In my head. I can feel how wounded he is. I shouldn't have brought up Anna."

"But it was necessary," Sam said, inhaling deeply. "Listen, if the two of you are to move forward, you need to talk about all the bad things and the painful things too. And you need to be comfortable about doing it."

Never before had they gone at each other's hearts like that. Now he felt raw inside and awfully conflicted. This wasn't going well at all. Something was really clawing away inside of Dean and Cas felt like he was missing the point. Like he was missing the obvious. But could it be as simple as forgiving and moving on? No. He couldn't accomplish something like that based on where they were.

Dean needed to stop taking him for granted. To stop treating him like a weapon or a toy. And the only way to fix all of this was to distance himself. To stay away for a while. To build a better sense of clarity in the other man's mind of how crucial all of this was to both of them. Of how their souls literally relied on them discovering what it meant to be in love with each other.

"Okay," Dean suddenly appeared in the kitchen, his red, swollen eyes betraying him as he sat down. "Let's do this. What's next, Sam?"

At first, his brother was obviously shocked. And so was Cas. Both of them stared at him, knowing well enough that Dean was trying his best to conceal the fact that he had been crying for at least half an hour.

"Um," clearing his throat, Sam cast a look at Castiel and nodded. "You game to go on?"

"Sure." Those blue eyes couldn't leave Dean's face though. Castiel pressed his paper onto the table and scanned his five brief points.

"Dean, I ask your forgiveness on five things," Cas began, his eyes squinting as Sam rose up to collect another bag of chips and a bowl of dip from the refrigerator. "The Leviathans, turning myself into a bomb to defeat Raphael, allowing Lucifer to manipulate me by coinhabiting my vessel," he paused to consider the older Winchester's face. What he discovered was merely a struggle to appear composed. "I'm sorry that I have died and you felt…what it feels like to lose someone you care about which leads me to Mary—"

Dean's chest heaved. "I've stopped blaming you for that."

"I'm sorry that my judgement was clouded a little too much that I didn't notice Jack was a ticking time bomb. And when he…what he did to Mary," Cas' tone faltered, "I will never forgive myself for that. I hate myself for what happened because you can't even look at me without remembering the biggest loss you've ever suffered."

Sighing, Dean ran his fingers through disheveled hair. "Maybe that was true like two weeks ago. But right now I'm looking at you and all I see is the one person apart from Sammy that I love endlessly. And nothing compares to you."

It was Cas' turn to swallow. "Oh," he said awkwardly, staring at the sheet of paper on the table. "Well, I…was brief. But—"

"The Leviathans, Lucifer, none of it matters anymore, Cas. Mom wanted us to be together, did you know that?" Dean croaked as he gazed at Cas. "When she first met you, she thought that you were my boyfriend. And she came to my room and started telling me about how proud she was that I was accepting of being gay."

"Really?" Cas smiled a little.

Dean did the same. He shrugged. "She was planning our wedding too. Had this scrap book she started with all these notes on what cake we should get and finger foods, and champagne. You name it."

"Yeah she was ready to book a hall and was already making a list of churches that would accept gay marriages," Sam smiled too. His eyes met the clock on the wall and realized that it was minutes to midnight. "Okay, so since it's already too late to continue, how about you exchange papers on the last part of the exercise. And when you get time tomorrow, you'll read whatever the other wrote."

"Cool," Dean said, collecting Castiel's paper and in the process of doing so, their fingers brushed. Barely though. But enough to send feelings cascading through his entire body.

Blue eyes held a gaze with green ones. "Thank you, Dean," Cas said, neatly folding up the other man's paper and tucking it into his breast pocket. "Can I go now?" this he directed at Sam.

"Yeah you can actually unless—"

"Wait a minute," Dean seemed flustered all of a sudden. "Cas, where are you going?"

The angel shrugged as he pushed himself up from the chair. "Since it's so late, I just might sit on a bench and admire the Eiffel Tower. Then I'll move on to Buckingham Palace. Tomorrow I'll be at the Loch again."

"So you're not going to…stay here?" Dean sounded so wounded, his voice shook.

Cas sighed. "Whilst this exercise was really informative and we managed to talk about varying issues, Dean I cannot provide you with my company as much as was given before."

"What does that even mean?" the older Winchester stared back in terrible confusion.

"It means," Cas picked up what was left of the potato chips in the bag, "that we both need some more time to figure this out and the best way to ensure that is for me to stay away for a while."

"So you're going to walk out on me again," Dean croaked, rising up slowly from his chair with tears in his already bloodshot eyes. "For the second time. When I need you the most…"

"I…" Castiel swallowed and glanced at Sam. Then between the flutter of wings, he disappeared without another word.

Dean, slumped onto the chair and stared in his wake, mouth hanging agape at the angel's terrible exit.

**THOUGHTS? No one is saying anything really. Am I screwing this up?**


	6. Receptive

Dragging his brother out on a hunt was like trying to haul two heavy sacks of potatoes up the steps of the bunker. In short, Dean refused to comply with gaining satisfaction from anything else but his bed.

The bunker was dangerously empty. Sam wandered around as if he was in zombie land. And the simplest clank of the air conditioner set him in a tizzy.

He ate breakfast, lunch and dinner alone. Most times, he carried Dean's meals into his room and would find his brother knocked out on the bed, curled over a pillow protectively. And other times, the pounding sounds of Led Zeppelin were now replaced with soppy rock love ballads like 'Love Hurts' from Nazareth.

If Sam expressed to anyone that the depressed state his brother had been drowning in hadn't been tearing him apart, then that would be a blatant lie. So after the second week when Castiel didn't show up at the bunker to at least talk to Dean, Sam decided that he would really and truly, make a deal with an angel and not a demon. What could go wrong? He had nothing to lose. Heck, Castiel was his best friend. And calling him and faking an emergency was easy as ABC because in less than five minutes, the angel appeared in the bunker's library bearing a stick of pink and blue cotton candy.

"Yes," Cas pinched a bit of the fluff and sucked on it. "Hmm," his blue eyes fluttered close. "Apples. I love apples. Although one might say that it is the forbidden fruit."

"So get this," Sam decided to jump straight to the point, "I have a proposition. And it's kind of a deal. Nothing too dangerous. But hear me out…"

Castiel narrowed his eyes. "Angels don't make deals."

"I know, and…I get why you might say no, but this is a life or death situation here," Sam suddenly offered up a saddened look, "Cas, he isn't getting better. Dean's literally made his bedroom a prison cell. And he never comes out. Hasn't come out for over two weeks. He's in there all the time falling apart, doesn't eat. And I really think that nothing is going to make him better except you."

Castiel shook his head. "So what do you want me to do?"

"Stay in the bunker," Sam held up his hands, fearing that the angel would disappear after the suggestion. "look, you can sleep in your old room. I'll get Dean's laptop for you so you can watch all the Netflix you want. Besides, he's not using it anyway. And you can stay here just in case…" he stopped, swallowing hard.

"Just in case what, Sam?" Cas frowned.

Sam hated to voice his concerns. "Just in case Dean decides to do something stupid. He's been abusing the medicine cabinet. I had to clear it out a couple days ago but I'm not sure I frisked all the bottles away from him."

"Are you trying to tell me that Dean is so far gone, that he might kill himself?" Cas' voice broke as his eyes glistened with tears.

"I'm not sure. All I know is that he's rock bottom right now. And he's heading further down south."

"Why didn't you say something earlier?" Cas furrowed his brows, terribly upset and worried. "A text. A call."

"After the last meeting when you left, you kind of gave off the vibe that you needed your space and wanted nothing to do with him for a while," Sam provided with a shrug. "I thought that you should be able to make your own decision. But now, the way things are going, all he's got is you and me. And I can't do it alone because I'm not the one he's in love with. You are."

Sighing, Castiel allowed a few seconds to slip by. Within that time, he was really calculating the risks and consequences of what he had done by staying away. This shouldn't have escalated so far to a point of self-destruction. Never before had Dean showed signs of ultimately locking himself away to degrade. He fought. He pushed on. He found some way to rise up on his feet and join the hunt.

But now, how selfish it would be if Castiel decided to decline the offer of staying within walking distance of Dean? He really couldn't live with himself if anything happened to the older Winchester. He might fade away quickly. He might be angry at the other man, but never selfish enough to purposely cause Dean any harm. Never.

Castiel dragged his feet past Sam, cotton candy still in his grasp. "Fine," he said softly, "I guess it's time for me to take matters into my own hands."

"What are you—" Sam's eyes widened as he spun around and chased after the angel. "Cas! He's sleeping. Don't wake him as yet!"

When his bedroom door creaked open, Dean curled a little more into his pillow and pretended to sleep. With his back towards the entrance, he predicted it was Sam. His brother had developed a game of coming in to peep then poke at him, just to make sure that he was still breathing. But now, something was different. Sam apparently stood by the doorway assessing him in silence. And the absence of the poking jabbed at his nerves because he wanted the attention at least.

Footsteps, slow padding sounds across the floor approached him. And he sighed a little inside. Sammy cared enough to check on him at least five times a day. And maybe the fact that he was still holding on pleased his brother. But these days, even Sammy's concern for him could not erase the dark cloud that had settled in his mind. A cloud that was raining down doubt and sadness and loss. Casting its net around him and choking all the happiness away. He really used to dream about Cas. Better days. And now, he was slowly beginning to forget his voice and the crow's feet around his blue eyes.

"Dean."

He missed that voice. He really did. That gravelly voice that tickled his soul and settled his fears. He missed him so damn much, he was hearing his voice now. Goddammit. Dean realized that he possibly was going entirely insane and maybe dying by a bullet wasn't his ending. But he might die by going totally demented in his own damn room.

"Wake up," he heard Cas' voice so close to him. "Dean."

"No," covering his ear with an arm, Dean fought back the tears. "Stop it. Please."

"Dean, it's me," a warm hand suddenly touched his arm and warm fingers wrapped around his wrist. And he shuddered, literally trembled from that touch. Knowing immediately that this wasn't part of his delusions but it really and truly was…

"Cas," he croaked, turning over onto his back and peering up at the figure looming above him in the shadowed room. "Is that you?"

Those blue eyes were so mellow by the yellow light of the lamp, Dean's heart gave a little leap. He was there. He was really and truly there. After what felt like a year. He had come. Like the sunlight cascading into the room, he was there after the terrible rain.

"Dean, you need to get up," Cas' said softly, offering a saddened look. "When last have you eaten?"

"Ages," Dean fumbled with the sheet on his bed and tried to sit up, trying to appear composed when he was way past breaking point. "Where have you been?"

"Nowhere of import," Cas shook his head and avoided eye contact. "Come on," still containing a grasp on Dean's wrist, he tugged a little. "Let me make you something to eat. Perhaps your favorite might be enticing enough. Bacon and blueberry pancakes?"

"You remembered," Dean's eyes filled with tears as he offered a trembling smile. "Wow. You're really something."

He appeared so much softer than the terribly angry embodiment of the most beautiful soul he had ever seen on earth. Cas sighed internally, wishing more than ever that nothing remotely awful had capabilities of tearing them apart.

"Up you get," Cas avoided the compliment and bit his lips. He tugged again and finally Dean complied.

If Castiel admitted to anyone ever, especially Sam, that he was in a composed state, then he would be lying. After all these years, after all they had been through. Countless times of saving each other. Of relying on each other. Of trusting each other beyond normalcy. Dean had allowed his grief to destroy their bond. And Castiel was beyond infuriated like he had never been before with Dean.

He was so infuriated that as much as he loved Dean, Castiel had been travelling around the world, trying to allow several sceneries to calm the simmering anger. Trying to gain a better understanding of how someone he loved with all his heart, could blatantly blame him for everything that had gone wrong in their lives. Even if Dean elaborated on Castiel misinterpreting his choice of words; the angel still felt as if Dean's initial message was to throw all the blame on him.

Now, as he collected a frying pan and placed it on the stove, Cas felt his chest compress with anxiety. Because he wasn't quite sure what was occurring between the two of them. Sure there was the obvious sense of being in love with each other, but he could never get past the fact that Dean had placed him in danger by jumping into hell.

If you claim to love someone so much that the absence of that person literally tore you apart, then how could you even place that person in a dangerous situation? How could you utter those painful four words that had stabbed him in the heart over and over again?

You're dead to me.

How? He kept thinking about these little memories over and over again as he added water to the pancake mix. If you love someone, then how could you place all the blame on that person when it was quite obvious that certain things were beyond their control? Situations always changed. The plan could always be altered. And Dean was always aware of this. He always had another option to go with.

"Cas," Dean croaked from his seat at the table.

With his back to the older Winchester, the angel who had little power left inside of him, mixed the batter slowly. "Hmm?" he responded, avoiding eye contact.

"I can…feel your energy when you're close to me," Dean said softly. The air took on a cold draft as the A.C in the bunker adjusted to the temperature outside. "And right now, you're pissed. I'm really sorry, Cas. Will you ever forgive me?"

He sighed, blinking profusely as he dipped a spoon into the mix and placed the lump in the pan. "I wonder if Sam wants pancakes? Maybe I'll make two for him. Just to be on the safe side."

The silence that stretched on afterwards was only filled with the soft sizzling of the bacon. And as he washed up the wares, Cas was slowly regretting his decision to stay in the bunker. Because throughout all of this, Dean treated him like a toy. And he allowed himself to be manipulated. To have his strings pulled in whichever direction the Winchesters deemed fit. Only difference is, Sam was the one who oftentimes felt ashamed of their requests.

But Dean…

Sliding the pancakes onto a plate and clipping up the strips of bacon, Cas bravely approached the table and handed Dean's favorite meal over to him with a composed demeanor. However, whilst he handed over the fork, their fingers brushed. Lightly though. But enough to take their breaths away as green eyes widened and blue ones appeared sharper. And in that particular moment, Cas became certain of one thing.

No matter what had happened between them, they were beyond a doubt attracted to each other physically. To an extent that from the moment their eyes locked, Cas wanted to yank Dean up from the table, and kiss him until they died from running out of breath. He wanted to touch Dean, every inch of him instead of using his eyes to roam. He wanted to taste his lips. Having grown tired of imagining whether Dean tasted like whiskey or pie or coffee or minty like his toothpaste,

"Cas."

"Eat."

Dean's eyes filled with tears and it seemed as if he was constantly crying these days. "I want to say so many things to you," he said in almost a whisper. "I want to hold you. And never let go. Ever."

"If you don't eat, I will force feed you," Cas said with a straight face.

"You honestly think that I'm a fuck up, don't you?" Dean's face contorted as he tried to fight back the wave of tears that were threatening to overflow.

"I disagree," Cas frowned. He pulled out a chair and sat down neatly. "You're a human that is terribly flawed. And I will not use that against you."

"What do you see when you look at me?" Dean actually continued to dwell on a level so deeper than his usual self, even Cas was astonished.

"I see a man who is beyond breaking point, that he is grasping at straws to stay alive," Cas admitted in his gravelly voice. "I see a man who is suffering from grief and doubt about who he truly is."

"I know who I am, Cas," Dean said softly, picking up the fork and poking a strip of bacon. "Took me a while to figure it out. But within these two weeks, I've been so low, I've felt things. Guilt. The worst kind of pain ever being my heart literally breaking into tiny freaking pieces every second of every day. I'm not the Dean Winchester you left in the bunker that night. I'm not the same anymore at all."

Cas was beyond convinced of that one small confession. When he gazed into Dean's green eyes, he saw depths that he had not traversed before. Corridors that stretched out in Dean's mind were dimly lit and shadowed. Those places had been contained behind closed doors. Doors Dean had erected to shut out the hurt and pain from a traumatic childhood. From the horrors he had witnessed in his life thus far. And now, those doors were wide open. And what Cas saw behind those doors were like staring into the pits of hell.

But instead of Dean being a demon that dwelled inside that awful place, he was now being ripped apart because of it. And he wanted to save him. He really did. Cas wanted to hold him and close those doors that depression had flung wide open. He wanted to smother him with kisses but he couldn't. Not as yet. Not when Dean was in such a fragile state, just holding him could break what little sanity he had left.

"I need you, Cas," Dean tried again, this time, he was pleading. "Please don't leave me. Please."

Although Castiel was angry or had been, he now felt ashamed. "I'm here to stay," he said softly. "We will fix us. It will take some time. But we will do our best. You think that you're the only one that's broken, Dean," he shook his head. "But so am I. I have no power left inside of me. That's what love does to an angel. It makes us powerless."

"So you're human now?"

"No. Not really."

"Do you think…" Dean's hand slowly inched across the table as he tried to reach for Cas' touch, "do you think that loving each other will ever hurt less than how it hurts now?"

The simple but painful question squeezed Cas' heart. "I don't know, Dean. Time will tell."

Staring at his plate for a while, Dean felt completely lost. If he couldn't fix this, then he would never be able to fix himself. Lisa once told him that the only person who could fix a broken heart is the person who did the damage in the first place. But wasn't that trauma? When he looked at Castiel, all he remembered was their fight. He couldn't even dwell on the meeting Sam had initiated. All he kept remembering was Castiel walking out on him and he felt so ashamed of himself for pushing the other man to that point.

"Dean," Cas suddenly said, "I want you to promise me that no matter how terrible you may feel right now, you will not give up on trying to make things better. I want you to promise me that."

Staring at him for a long time, Dean honestly felt as if he couldn't make that promise. "As if you'll miss me when I'm gone."

"Dean!" Cas suddenly cried out, Reaching across the distance, he took Dean's fingers between his and squeezed. "Please don't. Keep trying for us. For me. I need you too. You might not believe that I can need you right now. But I do."

"You're not dead to me, Cas."

"I know, Dean."

"You're not. I will never forgive myself for saying something so horrible to you."

"More bacon?" Cas suddenly forced out a smile. "Are you full at least? Do you want a beer? A cup of coffee?"

"I want you right now." And when Cas swallowed, Dean cracked a smile. "But a beer will have to do." His eyes remained glued to the other man as he weakly rose up and went to the refrigerator. "You know, I can't remember the last time I saw you without your trench coat on. You look…" and he caught himself just in time.

Dean was all over the place, that much Castiel realized. One moment he was really low and the next, he was desperately trying to return to normal. But the moment Dean realized that he could mesh his usual self with the undying love he had for Castiel, Dean froze up.

He closed up shop and reverted to person he claimed he used to be. But Cas adored the honesty, he really did treasure those moments. Even though the hunter's softer side was constantly shadowed by being macho, when he did allow the curtains to be brushed aside, Cas adored the flaws. The good and bad. And there was nothing purer than finding someone's raw, tarnished soul to be the most beautiful thing.

"I've never really asked you before," Dean continued to nervously force himself into normalcy. "But since you're not paying rent for your vessel and it's all…you. Do you like…feel everything as if it's your own body?"

Bold but he accepted it. Cas rested the beer upon the table and watched as Dean twisted off the cork. "I do. Why do you ask?"

"No reason really."

"If you're asking me if I feel physically attracted to you, then yes, Dean. I most certainly do," Cas admitted boldly. "And since I have been losing my powers, there are certain ways I feel about you that are new to me. Weak in the knees," Cas shook his head. "It is an ultimate truth."

"I make you weak in the knees?" Dean stared up at the angel with wild fascination. "Is it because of how good looking I am or everything else?"

"Get over yourself," Cas rolled his eyes and sat down.

Dean laughed. He helped himself to more beer. "You're not so bad looking yourself. I remember when you walked into that barn when we first met. God, you knocked all the senses out of me." His pasty complexion was slowly fading away. Now, there was a dust of color upon Dean's cheeks. "Now, I can't stop thinking how you gorgeous you are. You're the kind of sexy that is supposed to be illegal."

"I see you're returning to your normal self," Cas smiled. "This is good, Dean."

"Nothing is normal about us, Cas."

"You know what I mean," Cas offered a shrug.

"Normal to me is being married. To a woman," Dean pointed out, "with two kids and a German Shepherd. Normal is not us."

Cas remained silent, merely staring into green eyes and refraining from countering what had been said. After some time though, whilst their eyes were locked, the angel developed a saddened look. Almost as if he had been wronged in some way. Possibly deprived of a necessity. But then, there were certain truths that could hurt. There were certain things that didn't make sense and never would.

"Did I say something wrong?" Dean was frowning deeply. "Shit. I said something wrong, didn't I?"

"I'm exhausted," Cas suddenly said as he avoided eye contact and rose up from the table. "Can you clean up? I really need to lie down."

"Cas," Dean tried, obviously feeling terrible and blaming himself for the abrupt change in the room. "What happened?"

"Nothing," the angel said and he sighed. "We have different perceptions of what normal is. To me, normal is being with you and only you with two kids and a German Shepherd. But then again, I'm not human."

"Cas." But then he had already gone through the doorway and disappeared into the bunker and Dean literally felt as if he had killed every kind of progress they had made.

Later that night in the soft glow of the lamp by their beds, they both fished out the sheet of paper containing the last request made by Sam. To write down five things they loved about each other and five things they hated the most. And when the night faded into a stillness that calmed the minds of those slowly drifting into sleep, both of them thought constantly about each other.

Cas read Dean's neat scrawl so many times, his demeanor changed from a small smile, to smiling widely, laughing and finally fading into pensive look.

**5 Things I love about Cas:**

1 – His blue eyes remind of me of either the ocean when its calm or the ocean when a storm is about to come in

2 – His hair has a personality of its own and he looks sexy with it ruffled

3 – His hands are soft enough to heal me and dangerous enough to smite demons

4 – His voice is fucking sexier than his hair and makes my knees go weak

5 – His care and concern for me in the way that he always makes it his mission to save me. I never have to ask him to. But he does it anyway. And he is selfless and scary as hell when I think of how magnificent he must be as a celestial being.

6 – I'll add another one. I love how dorky he is and how certain things make him so awkward. And whenever he talks about bees or kittens or flowers speaking to him, he has no idea how cute he looks to me. I just want to hug him forever.

**Five things I hate about Cas:**

1 – He tells Sam everything, especially how he feels and I wish he could talk to me about anything. Okay, I'm very jealous that he talks to Sam like that because I keep thinking that maybe something is wrong with me.

2 – I think hate is too strong a word. But I don't like when he reads my mind at all because 90% of the time I'm thinking about him.

3 – I don't like when he leaves without telling me why and then he disappears for days and I feel like a chunk of my heart went away with him

4 – I don' t like when he blames himself for doing what he thought at the moment was the right thing to do. And then he sets off on a suicide mission to make amends and I feel so powerless because I can't stop him.

5 – I don't like remembering that he kissed Meg right in front of me because since then I've always dreamt about him kissing me.

Pressing the sheet of paper to his chest, Castiel's eyes fluttered close. He breathed slowly, trying to gain some amount of composure and although they weren't separated by an expansive distance now, he felt the severity of loss. Of not being in close proximity to Dean. Listening to him breathe. Admiring his beautiful pair of eyes. Learning every single secret his soul had tucked away until now. And most of all, the sound of his voice.

Dean's list contained all the right amounts of humor and truth. But even though Castiel was wallowing in the depths of love, he simply could not understand how stunted someone like Dean Winchester could be in regards to expressing himself vocally. Because all of the points that he had written were never spoken out loud. The simple compliments could have refreshed Castiel's existence to a point where he would never have felt like he was living without hope.

But now; his eyes, his hair, his voice and hands? Dean really thought that he could reflect a storm in his eyes? That he had soft hands? Why had he decided to tuck these little things away until now? Why had he even been jealous of Meg when his importance in the angel's life withstood everything else?

Castiel sat with his legs folded, trench coat thrown across the back of a chair, and he thought about those words long and hard. Reading them over and over again until the lines were etched in his memory and then and only then did he rest the folded sheet next to the lamp. Then curling onto his side with the soft patter of rain against the bunker, Castiel gazed at the empty chair and wished more than ever that Dean was sitting there, a comical smile on his face, obsessing over Led Zeppelin or ACDC.

"_They're a good band," Dean said two years ago, curled up in the chair and beaming at Cas._

"_They're weird." The angel had turned up his nose._

"_Come on, Cas", Dean's tone had grown softer. "Taylor Swift is weird too. So is Avril Lavigne. And I like a few of their songs because you like them."_

"_Dean, you can't compare ACDE with Taylor Swift or…Avril," Cas's forehead creased from becoming frustrated. _

"_ACDC," Dean had corrected with a smile nevertheless._

"_What…ever," Cas' lips twitched up into a small smile. "At least ABBA is ten times better."_

_Dean scoffed. He pressed a hand to his chest dramatically. "Cas, how dare you! My heart is breaking now."_

And whilst the angel was willing memories of him, Dean realized that the sheet of paper resting on his lap was already stained with two drops of tears. The blue ink Cas had used to write down those deep words had run a little from the wetness that had leaked from Dean's eyes. Now, he read the lines for the fourth time and still felt the magnitude of every single word.

**5 Things I Love About Dean**

The beauty of his soul; so enraptured in blissful waves of living a dangerous life

His strength: never giving up when he believes in something, and someone

His heart: forever kind and beautiful as he loves unconditionally and cares abundantly enough to save those who need saving

The color of his eyes: reminds of me spring when everything is in bloom in all magnificence and when I look at him, I see nothing but hope that from every terrible situation, there is a spring of becoming something new and better

His love for music: because music expresses how he feels and it is the only way I can decipher what is happening behind his eyes.

**5 Things I Might Not Like About Dean**

He takes me for granted

When he abuses the trust and care I have in abundance for him

His inability to talk to me as freely about how he feels.

The way he lives his life recklessly without realizing how precious life is.

When he loses faith in himself and doesn't see how important he is to the people around him

After rising up to collect the bottle of whisky, Dean folded into the chair beside his bed and drank heartily. Wishing all the pain would stop. Wishing that it wasn't possible to love someone as much as he loved Cas because loving Cas meant that he was changing. He never favored change, especially in regards to someone else. But this was different. He didn't have a choice in his transformation. And it scared the hell out of him.

Dean stared hard at the paper next to the lamp. Sure he always took Cas for granted. But it was a defensive technique. Willing himself not to care too much so that maybe his feelings would subdue after a while. But then ten years passed by and he still kept drowning in love. And now they were at a bad place, weren't they? Because here he was, sitting in solace whilst Cas resided in the bunker and the silence felt like he was still miles and miles away.

So this wasn't a fix. This was like the aftermath of a hurricane. Of having all his walls blown away and there he was, left like a wounded soldier wearing his heart on his bloodied sleeve. And no matter how Dean twisted and turned it, they were worst off than they were before. They argued. They left. They came back to each other. They talked and moved on as if nothing happened. But now the truth was in the open like a ticking bomb and they were waiting on everything to explode.

Well he was waiting on the end. When Cas would decide to walk out for good without ever coming back. When he would give up everything they had experienced to drift off into another realm or to return to Heaven. Time would tell. But he was certain that Cas would leave him soon. No one ever really stayed after he lay broken in their arms. After he revealed all the shadows and demons residing inside of his soul. No one stayed so why would Cas stick around after this kind of crisis?

**A/N - Yo, people are reading and not saying anything. Are you guys alive?**


	7. Expressive

_**A/N - Thank you so much for reading Lisa, Shapar, Karyn and Meredith! I love you guys so much.**_

* * *

Life has a funny way of unfolding, especially when you really dread the outcome of change.

Two days after brushing shoulders in the hallways and having meals together with small smiles and the absence of words, Jody called to invite them over for Thanksgiving. And although Dean hadn't left the bunker in over three weeks, Sam's bitch face and sulking was enough persuasion to at least try to not be spoilsport.

So they packed. Castiel agreed to tag along since he was specially invited by Jody after Sam passed the phone over. And in the midst of packing, he suddenly realized how human he had become. How difficult tasks like brushing his teeth and taking a bath and eating had turned into something as mundane as remembering to slip into his trench coat. All these habits returned like clockwork and the first time Dean noticed that the shower was being occupied by the angel, he paused in the hallway and didn't know whether to feel entirely saddened or happier because of it.

Because slowly, Castiel was becoming less of an angel and more human. His funny taste for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches had returned. And he craved prunes now. Lots of prunes. He even had an acquired taste for Dean's cheesy fries. And although Sam tried to encourage Cas into his healthy vegan lifestyle, Cas reverted to Dean's bacon and eggs and cheeseburgers out of guilty pleasure.

"Ride up front with me," Dean said as he loaded the bags in the trunk.

Hovering near the back door with a copy of Pride and Prejudice tucked under one arm, Cas squinted at the older Winchester.

"Guess he's talking to you," Sam provided as he hauled his duffel bag into the backseat. "Besides, I don't mind. Lots of space to stretch my legs and I can take a nap whenever I want."

Dean smiled at Cas and rounded the car to the driver's side. After climbing in, he cranked up ACDC and 'Hell's Bells' began as the journey towards Jody stretched out before him. And in half an hour tops, Sam had passed out leaving the two of them in the front seat with nothing else but each other's company.

Since Cas had returned to the bunker, conversation between them was kept at a minimum. Simply because Dean still hadn't mastered the art of expressing his feelings and any time he felt compelled to, his fear of losing Cas forced him to shut up. Cas on the other hand was still trying to adjust to becoming human again. Losing his grace was tragic and the more he felt his grace growing weaker, the more afraid he became, instantly realizing the cause of it all.

"Good to know that I'm not as important as your book," Dean said, glancing at the pages the other man was perusing.

Cas immediately paused, feeling the stab of guilt inside of his heart. Truth be told, the book was a necessary distraction. He had been moving through a pile of novels since his return to the bunker simply because he could not wallow in whatever was going on between them for hours on end. And although the book was fantastic, Cas closed it with a sigh.

"Talking to you hasn't exactly been easy recently, Dean," he admitted.

"Ditto." Dean lowered the music and stared at the road ahead. "You ready to bail on me yet?"

"Is that what you're trying to do?" Cas sounded wounded suddenly. "You're shutting me out, trying to pretend as if we're the same as we were before when we really aren't?

"What's so wrong with wanting to remember the good old days?" Dean's heart was hammering away in his chest. "Back when you and me could look each other in the eyes and recognize nothing but simply being ourselves."

"Dean, we are not the same anymore," Cas pressed on, "we will never be the same again."

"But back then it hurt less," Dean admitted with a frown. "Now, just talking to you makes me feel like I'm skating on thin ice."

"That's because you don't trust me."

"I do trust you," Dean said softly. "I trust you enough to know that soon you're going to realize how stupid this is and then you'll walk out on me."

"You're ridiculous," Cas shook his head and stared out the window.

"I'm just stating the facts."

"You know what, Dean?" Cas suddenly said in a broken voice, "you're a coward. Because I'm here with you, willing to be with you regardless of how much this hurts. And still you can't embrace the truth because you don't want to take the risk. You don't want to give up everything you thought was yourself to change for us. And I feel as if I'm the only one who is losing myself because of how I feel about you whilst you're still pretending that this isn't real."

"Cas—"

"Dean, you have me, All of me at your side. And you're still taking me for granted."

"I'm not taking you for granted—"

"You are," Cas said as he fought the tears. "I've been through this over and over again with you. Countless times I've tried to get nearer to you over the years and all you've done is push me away to a distance that keeps us at one level over and over again. And maybe you're right. Maybe I will become frustrated and I'll walk away. But I want you to know, Dean that whilst I'm here ready to talk, ready to open up, you have to do the same. We can't make this work if you're shutting me out and I'm ready to let you in."

Dean bit his lips, gripped the steering wheel and his chest heaved. "Okay. Okay great," he nodded, his eyes flicking to meet blue ones. "Since Sammy is passed out cold, how about we talk now?"

"I'd like that," Cas stated in a level tone.

But then five minutes slid by in silence and the tension in the car grew considerably colder. He had lowered the volume of the music because Sammy was sleeping. The highway lacked traffic so driving wasn't exactly pulling most his concentration. So why did he suddenly feel as nervous as hell? Anxious? Terribly tensed?

"Okay, um," Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to suck it up and take the leap, "tell me something about you that I don't know already."

Cas sighed, his blue eyes reflecting the passing stretch of trees. Something about him that wasn't common knowledge already? How about 90% of his emotions and feelings? How about the small facts that were never questioned, like his absences from the bunker. Or when he was human and was kicked out? The Gas N Sip days. Back when literally lay in the back room on a thin mattress and couldn't sleep; shaking from the cold whilst Dean was a million miles away and never thought about what he was going through.

"I find Patrick Swayze quite appealing. Sam and I watched Road House last night whilst you were sleeping and—"

"Wait," Dean stared in disbelief at the road ahead, "rewind. The two of you looked at Road House? Without me?"

"You were sleeping like a baby and we really didn't think about waking you," Cas said softly, his fingers lightly tapping the arm rest on the door. "Sam piled all the cushions we could find in the bunker on the floor and we used his laptop. We had popcorn also."

"Well don't blame me for being jealous now," Dean half laughed, trying to conceal how wounded he was, knowing that they hung out a lot more than he ever could with Cas. "Maybe you fell in love with the wrong brother."

"Dean—"

"Nah the two of you are super close," Dean swallowed, hating himself for the way he felt. "I envy how you could be best friends with him and it's so easy when with me you're just not…as open as you are with him. And don't get me wrong, I like it. I really do. But maybe I'd just like to be involved more when the two of you are playing house."

"We are—" Cas tried to contain the anger simmering away in his chest and he paused, eyes squeezed shut. "Dean, I don't understand how you can misinterpret the connection I have to your brother as opposed to you. Both are significantly different. You have no need to be jealous—"

"I'm not jealous," Dean lied whilst avoiding eye contact, "I'm…just…you know," he scratched the back of his neck nervously. "I want to make this work, okay? I really do. But I've never done something like this before. Dammit, I've never even done this with a woman."

"You did it with Lisa," Cas said in a flat tone, gripping the book within his grasp. "You left everything behind and you moved in with her. And you were happy, weren't you? You welcomed the idea of having a family with her without any regrets. And while I'm not asking you to give up anything at all, just to merely be yourself, you're finding this so difficult."

"Cas," Dean said in a raspy tone, as his eyes glistened a little, "I moved in with Lisa because of you."

"Meaning?" Cas was confused.

"I wanted to prove to myself that I couldn't be in love with you," Dean admitted, "and maybe it was selfish of me to try. But when I kept thinking about you and me even settling down like that, my thoughts never stretched further than you turning me down because I'm human and you're this extraordinary celestial being. And she knew. Lisa picked up on it right away that my mind was elsewhere. Every goddamn time I made love to her, I wasn't there. I was a million miles away with you."

Cas blinked. The truth. That's what he desired, wasn't it? And now that they were slowly revealing everything from their pasts, he felt somewhat relieved by realizing that it had always been him that Dean favored above anyone else.

"So Patrick Swayze, huh?" Dean tried to lighten the air between them. "Was it the hair that got you or the body?"

"A bit of both," Cas smiled and shook his head. "I also find Ryan Reynolds admirable."

"Damn," Dean was impressed. "Me too. How about that, huh? The two of us, talking about man crushes. Ain't that something?"

Cas replied with a smile. Sam rolled around in the backseat, mumbling something about bunnies and the highway stretched out even further in front of them. But the air was lightening up. The tension was slowly seeping out of the windows. And it felt damn good, knowing that they had been cooped up in the bunker, festering all these unspoken feelings. And now, they were willing to just be themselves around each other.

"Cas," Dean said after some time had passed by, and wishing more than ever now that he wouldn't come across as totally evasive, "I was wondering. And you don't have to say anything if you don't want to. But have you ever been intimate with a…guy before?" His cheeks were dusted pink and from the moment Dean realized that he had asked the question, he wanted to take it back. "Shit," he said nervously. "Forget that I asked that. It's not—"

"I have never been intimate with a man before," Cas interrupted as Dean glanced into the backseat to ensure that Sam was tucked away in dreamland. "Have you?"

"Once, when I was in high school, But it feels like ages ago. His name was Aiden." Dean realized that he was finding it difficult to breathe. Opening up like this felt…scary as hell. But he was opening up to Cas. And then when he remembered how he felt about the dorky guy sitting next to him, Dean wanted to empty out every single thought and emotion. He wanted to tell him everything.

"Tell me about Aiden," Cas considered the hunter's face. "Did Sam know about him?"

"Oh he knew alright," Dean rolled his eyes. "Aiden was a dorky dude who always ended up getting into detention because he read too much during classes. We were like fourteen back then. And this one time I found myself sitting next to him and we started arguing about which one came first: the chicken or the egg. Then after that, we kind of hung out a lot. I mean, the guys on the football team always teased me about him. But I didn't really care to be honest. He was always wide open about his life and what he liked. What he didn't like. And all my life, apart from Sammy, I never really had a friend to talk to so when we hung out, it was nice. Anyway, this one time I remember he came over when dad was on a hunting trip in Texas and Sammy was sleeping. It was raining,"

Dean's eyes took on a softer look and Cas really admired how comfortable he appeared to be. "Back then, I was kind of a looker. All the girls went crazy over me—"

"You still are," Cas provided. Their eyes met and Dean's chest heaved. He smiled and glanced away. There it was. That awfully beautiful feeling of little butterflies dancing within his chest.

"Thanks, Cas," he said, obviously blushing deeply. "So are you. Anyway, um," Dean bit his lips, trying to find the spot where he had left off before drowning in those blue eyes. "So we had a six pack between us and we were watching this raunchy western movie. And he kept pulling out his book to read, which kind of got me mad because he came over to look at the movie. So I tried to take the book away from him and we started rolling around. And then he kissed me. Well, I remember it that way. He kissed me and I…really didn't feel weird about it to be honest," Dean shook his head a little, "not really. Then one thing led to another and we…you know."

"Very adorable," Cas said suddenly reaching over and lightly squeezing Dean's fingers upon the wheel. The gesture was quite sudden, that the other man held his breath. And when Cas didn't break the connection, Dean literally felt his entire body become consumed with little electric shocks. His toes curled in his boots. He felt…damn good. Almost as if a surge of magic was passing through his soul. And he didn't want the feeling to stop. Not really.

But then Sammy woke up and his tousled head appeared in the rearview mirror. And when Dean reflexively reached up to adjust the view of his brother's sleepy face, he broke the one connection that had contained so much love and honesty of knowing that when they touched like that, although it was simple, Dean felt like he was on top of the world.

"Did you two make out?" was Sam's first question after rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Huh?" Dean's eyes widened.

"Your face is red, and Cas looks guilty. Fess up."

"We didn't do anything," Dean felt cornered.

"All we did was hold hands," Cas had no regrets in admitting the truth. "And we were about to make out, but then you woke up."

"Dammit," Sam threw his head back and groaned. He ran his fingers through those glossy locks and immediately his hair settled into a Loreal look. "I hate being in the middle of this. Maybe I should get out and hitch a ride to Jody so the two of you can bond on a deeper level."

"Just shut up," Dean was blushing deeply and scowling at the same time. "Shut your face and listen to your podcast or read. Or something."

Cas chuckled beside him. Then turning a little into the window, he nestled his head into his right arm and welcomed the satisfying feeling of ultimately being the one person who could send Dean into a nervous state. All from the simple touching of their hands. And he couldn't imagine what would happen when they dared to go further. Maybe Dean would faint, or worst, run away. But going further was something Cas was prepared to be patient about. Slow steps. An inch at a time. He couldn't jump into this without allowing how they felt to blossom.

After stopping at a gas station for snacks and settling Baby into a corner of the road as they relaxed in the shade, Cas was about to drift into a light nap.

"Cas, just so you know," Sam said from the backseat, sprawled out and munching on an energy bar, "Dean wears boxers with little hearts on them. And he has this weird fetish for lace—"

"I'll kick your ass," Dean shot daggers into the rearview mirror as he chewed on a cheeseburger. "Say another word, I dare you."

Cas threw a glance at the hunter and when their eyes met, he smiled widely. "What else, Sam?"

"Oh loads," the taller Winchester continued. "He's all macho talk but he likes to be cuddled. Plus he has a photo of you under his pillow. He has a shit load of socks with angel stuff on them like wings and halos and—"

Dean deliberately cranked up the volume and ACDC's "Shook Me All Night" filled the car.

"Why do you have a photo of me under your pillow, Dean?" Cas reached over to turn the music down. Sam snorted, awaiting the confession with glee on his face.

"Maybe, just maybe," Dean said firing up the car to hit the road again, "when I'm feeling low, I want to remind myself that I have to keep on going. And I keep on going because of you."

The car suddenly grew quiet as the song faded and Sam's countenance changed from humor to admiration. Cas on the other hand was gazing with unconditional love in his eyes at the other man who was squeezing the steering wheel and trying as best as he could to remain composed.

"I bought the socks for you ages ago as a Christmas gift but then I thought that it might be too offensive, so I kept them," Dean admitted as he turned the car onto the highway.

"To be fair, Dean," Cas wrapped his coat closer around him like a burrito, "I made you a mixtape last Christmas but I wasn't quite sure if you would like my selection of songs. So I kept it instead."

Dean's interest was piqued. "Oh yeah? Where's it?"

"Well I,,," Cas fumbled in the pockets of his trench coat for a few seconds and fished out a cassette, "I have it here but…Dean!"

The older Winchester snatched the cassette from the other man's grasp and pushed it into the deck, those green eyes dancing. "Let's hear it then. This could ultimately be…" When Berlin's 'Take My Breath Away' began, Dean's eyes widened. "Damn."

"If you took a little time to read the label," Cas was scowling, "you would have noticed that I wrote 'For Dean Only' because the songs aren't exactly…" Shying away, Cas turned to stare out the window, obviously upset.

"No, it's all good," Sam said holding up his hands, "I don't mind. I've always wanted you two together so listening to how you feel about Dean through songs isn't so bad. Cas, come on. You've practically told me everything in regards to how you feel."

For the rest of the journey, the car's atmosphere changed significantly as the older Winchester became lost in the lyrics of every single song Cas had chosen. Every single word, and line, he tried to relate to their relationship. And although Katy Perry did find her way in the playlist, he didn't mind at all because "Unconditionally" explained how he felt completely. But then, Dean realized that his vision was being blinded by tears and reaching up quickly, he wiped them away and glanced at Cas who was curled up in the seat, obviously holding his breath.

"This is the most beautiful thing ever," Sam said softly, patting Cas on the shoulder. "You're breaking Dean with songs that he wouldn't even listen to when I play them. If this isn't the best love story ever, then I don't know what is. Sam out." And throwing himself back onto the seat, his lanky frame disappeared as he tried to avoid the two lovers in the front seat obviously drowning in their feelings for each other.

By the time they rolled into Jody's driveway, Dean was completely drained from the playlist that he turned off the ignition and sat there staring into space. Cas studied his demeanor silently. He gathered his coat around him and sat up, fearing the worst criticism ever from his mixtape. But Dean wasn't entirely dissatisfied. No. Instead, he slowly released the steering wheel and inched his right hand closer to the angel's fingers resting on the seat between them. And when Cas returned the gesture of holding his hand so lovingly, Dean's chest trembled from a shaky sigh.

"Thank you," he said softly, gazing into blue orbs that reflected nothing but the purest kind of love. "Cas you…" his voice broke and gently, he tried to gain composure as the other man entwined their fingers a little more snugly than before, "you keep doing these things. These…little things that make me want to…kiss you. And it's killing me that I can't do it just yet because I can tell that you want us to take things slow. But dammit, Cas. If you keep this up, I might have to skip the kissing part and go all the way."

"Dean—" Cas' voice was barely audible. "I don't want us to go so—"

"Well if it isn't the cutest couple of the year!" Jody's welcome filled the car as she poked her head in. "Come in to the house before you end up being stuck out here in this storm. It's coming hard," she walked back to Sam and peered up at the sky.

Releasing his hand was probably the hardest thing Dean ever had to accomplish in his life because letting go felt as if he was giving up his reason to live. Like he was letting go of everything that held him together. That kept him sane. And the look in Cas' eyes were so damn easily readable, evidently he wanted to reach over and kiss the older Winchester. He was pleading for them to just stay where they were. But then Claire was standing in front of the car and then Dean sprang out to welcome her. And from then on, Thanksgiving began.


	8. Progress

Claire had never been naïve. Being able to read people easily was never a challenge. She was always observant. Always watching faces and emotions passed between people. And above all, Castiel was still connected to her. So when he tumbled out of car and the soft sprinkle of rain dotted his trench coat, her blue eyes picked up on the pained expression on her angel dad's face. And she immediately turned to Dean, realizing that his cheeks were clearly flushed.

Which pretty much meant one thing.

They had finally gotten the guts to admit how in love they were with each other. About damn time too since the first time she saw them two of them together, the sparks flew everywhere. Even Sam knew. Jody might have been a little late to the party but she picked up on it after a while. But Alex never believed her when she mentioned it. Then again, Alex was as straight as an arrow and as naïve as ever.

But Claire was anything but straight. Straight was boring. It was so normal. And Claire wasn't normal. Especially not after Kaia. So when Castiel hugged her tightly, she felt how distressed he was and wanted to fix him. Not because he was broken but because no matter how much she tried to ignore him wearing her dad's face, she still loved him endlessly. And if Dean had hurt him in any way, Claire was going to tie him up and kick his ass.

"Evidently, it's just the seven of us, well including Donna," Jody glanced around nervously as if avoiding everyone's eyes. "She's somewhere. You boys hungry? Come on in."

"Mom's been spaced out lately," Alex explained to Sam as they all piled into the house. "In case you didn't know, she's been dating Donna."

"Wait…wow," Sam was impressed as his eyes rested on the glowing aura of Donna appearing to greet them all with hugs. "That's something, isn't it?"

"Claire's not taking it well because she keeps remembering Kaia and Donna is trying so hard to get through to her but she's not willing." Alex comfortably sat next to Sam on the couch as Dean came in awkwardly scratching the back of his neck with Cas in tow. "What's up with those two?" she followed his eyes and frowned. "The two of them had a fall out?"

"Well," Sam cleared his throat, "not exactly. You'll probably pick up on it sooner than expected."

"So Dean," Claire piped up, standing by the table with her hands folded, "how's life?"

Donna helped Jody set the food upon the table and both of them kept their eyes on everyone in the room. Especially Dean who was somehow quieter than usual and evidently troubled by something that was not easy to detect.

"Been good," he said to Claire, choosing a seat on a two cushioned chair. When Cas decided to sit next to him though, Dean's green eyes sparkled a little and it was just enough for Claire to decide what was actually happening. "How have you been?"

"Oh peachy," Claire slinked over like a cat, smirking. "You two planned the wedding yet?"

"Claire!" Jody scolded from the table, resting a stack of plates next to a bowl of steaming vegetables. "Go steady or else I'll really send you to your room."

"I'm just asking because Dean's been blushing since he came in and Cas looks like he is about to explode," she shrugged.

"That's just out of line, Claire," Donna commented.

"No, that's called being smitten with each other," Claire bravely stated. "Come on, are we really going to ignore this? The two of them have had the hots for each other for ages. It's about damn time they—"

"Claire Novak, get your behind over here and help Donna fix the table, or I'll be damned," Jody warned.

Sauntering over with a contented look upon her face, Claire grabbed the cutlery and began to lazily set the table.

"I'll bring in the bags," Dean rose up and tried to appear composed.

"Yeah I got the spare room ready," Jody said, handing over the tissues to Claire and heading to the door with Dean, "come on let's haul those bags in. You and me."

But then he didn't want to be cornered. Dean felt entirely cramped and colder as they headed outside and the cold wind bit his cheeks. And he felt like just locking himself in the car and crying as the rain came down because everyone was catching on now. Literally everyone had known. So when he kept thinking about how many years had been wasted, Dean felt like shit.

"I have two spares," Jody told him as he popped the trunk. "It's your choice who wants to share with who. Judging from how terrible you look right now, Dean, I've got to tell ya," she rubbed his arm gingerly, "love ain't easy to battle against. You've just got to accept it. Even though it might not be what you always wanted. It hits ya and before ya know it, you're someone completely different than the person you were."

"How much do you know?" Dean actually asked as he collected Cas' blue and red duffel bag and then hauled his own out of the trunk.

"About you and Cas? Well enough to know you're meant for each other. Cause to be honest, Dean, he's the only one who manages to keep you in check apart from Sam," Jody said with a shrug. "And damn the two of you would make a cute couple."

"Yeah well we're not a couple as yet," Dean said halfheartedly. He locked the trunk and began to head inside until Jody took a hold of his arm in a tender way.

"Look, whatever's holding you back, Dean, just remember that life is short, especially for a hunter," she offered a sympathetic look. "If you love him and I know you do, then take the leap. What do you have to lose? I can tell that he feels the same about you. So get going. You don't want to wake up tomorrow and we have another war on our hands and you lose each other. Heck you've lost him before, haven't you? And I bet that it really was terrible."

"Yeah Jody," Dean said softly, as they headed towards the door. "Thanks for the heads up."

"I'm the one to talk," she said, nudging his shoulder. "I was where you're at a couple months back with Donna. Then I kind of stopped being scared and jumped into it."

"The thing is," Dean stopped by the door and turned to confide in her, "I want to jump but then when I'm about to, something holds me back."

"That's fear. Because you haven't done this before, have ya?" Donna offered a soft look.

"I haven't. Not really. Not with a guy. And he's…more than what I expected. He's so much more human than I ever thought he was." Dean rested the bags down and sighed. "When we talk about things, he gets right up inside my heart and he makes me feel so vulnerable. But there are these walls."

"My advice is to have a little fun with it," Jody squeezed his shoulder. "Start by flirting with him. Small things like ruffling his hair or teasing him. Get the tension out of the air and when you're back at being comfortable around each other, going further wouldn't feel so bad after all. Sometimes we stop having fun and we stop laughing and everything turns into this whole mess. He's an awkward, dorky guy," Jody smiled. "Bonus. He's your awkward dorky guy."

So Dean took her advice although flirting and teasing with Cas made him terribly nervous. To a point where he literally sat next to him around the table for dinner. And just when Cas least expected it, Dean slyly maneuvered his boot closer to Cas' pair. And constantly, he kept trying to wrap his foot around the angel's calf. And the conversation went on as per normal as if neither of them were trying to get the other to fight back. Eventually, Cas had to bite in a chuckle when both of their knees bumped the table and Jody thought it was a ghost.

"The question is, will you share a room with Cas or me," Sam pointed out the obvious as the three of the segregated themselves later in the evening. He glanced at the angel who was gazing without regrets at his brother.

"Or I can sleep alone," Dean offered with a shrug, "since the two of you have the bromance thing going on."

"Dean—" Sam frowned.

"No I don't mean it in a bad way," the older Winchester laughed. "It's cute. At least I don't have to worry about the two of you not getting along when Cas and I end up together."

The few seconds of silence that filled the air between them was awkward as Cas' cheeks turned crimson and Sam beamed at his brother.

"So you're really going to do this then," the taller Winchester stated, obviously on the verge of jumping up from glee. "You're really going to get together with Cas."

"Might as well," Dean threw his arm around the angel and tugged him closer, savoring how his body literally lit up with feelings. "He's my dorky angel. Get your own."

"Oh really?" Sam scoffed. "You're suddenly yourself and I'm liking it. Good to see you getting back into being a jerk."

"Bitch," Dean muttered, regrettably removing his arm from around Cas and feeling as if he had given up a chunk of his existence to the inches between them.

"I'll give you your space," Cas decided as both Winchesters stared at him. "The couch looks comfortable so—"

"No way, Cas," Dean complained, feeling terrible about suggesting that he wanted to sleep alone. "You can have the bed. I'll take the couch. Besides," he held up his hand as the angel tried to debate the decision, "some pretty good western movies show in these parts. I don't mind throwing back and watching a few."

Later in the evening as Claire and Alex left to attend a party with some other friends down the street, the five adults decided to kick off their shoes and light up a bonfire whilst knocking back some beers. The firelight was wild in their eyes. The surrounding area was filled with chirping crickets, frogs pleading for the rain to burst down and the trees swaying. And when Dean looked at Cas, like really looked at him and his smile, he felt like he could face the world, kick ass and do anything.

He felt complete. He felt the pieces falling into place slowly. And although he was still frayed around the edges, and terribly wounded from the brutal transformation of love, Dean felt like he could breathe again. Because Cas was laughing again. He sat with his legs folded next to Sam and Jody was relating a story about a werewolf who was afraid of cats, and Cas kept laughing. He was happy. But Dean couldn't help but feel entirely paranoid about the reason behind that happiness.

Like was he really happy because of where they were? Did his heart hurt too or flutter whenever he looked at him? Dean wanted to talk to him about these things. He wanted to ask him all these questions and listen to all the answers. He wanted to know if Cas felt so in love with him that when they touched, he stopped breathing. Because breathing wasn't a big deal to angels, was it? But then if Cas was slowly becoming human again then maybe –

"Dean!" Sam was staring at him. "Come on, man. Stop drooling like a love sick puppy. Was asking you if you want another beer."

"Nah," Dean settled back on the plastic chair and listened to the wind howling around them. "Think I'll head in now. Feeling drained from driving all day plus this weather is getting to me." When he got up, he tossed the car keys at his brother. "Take her around back before you head in. Under the shed."

"Sure," Sam was studying his face too intently and Dean despised the scrutiny. "You good?"

"Yeah," he smiled. "Totally." And without sparing a second, he headed towards the house, not really feeling sleepy. But hoping to dive into the couch, curl up and play around with his feelings a little. To mull things over a little more.

He had been doing a lot of deep thinking lately. Talking to his demons. Listening to them whisper and toss around as they weren't trying to rip him apart anymore. But they were dancing around because of the dangers of love. And they were reveling in the feeling.

Now, as he kicked back on the couch and turned on the tv, Dean didn't even pay close attention to the western movie. Instead, he tucked his feet in and fell into a state of nostalgia. Kind of like going under but those green eyes were still open.

He went back to the night they met. The night they first cast their eyes on each other. And now, Dean didn't hate himself for falling in love with Cas so many years ago. He didn't regret locking eyes with an angel and going weak in the knees. Now, he felt as if everything was necessary. All the terrors and the fights and the dark blue light in Cas' stormy eyes. All of it was worth the ride. And he could have had him completely by now. But Dean didn't mind the wait.

Everything always happens for a reason. He had to unfold and become a different version of himself, to open like a flower to love someone like Cas. To have him. Because Cas wasn't an entity that had no depth. Now, he realized that Cas feelings ran deeper, down into valleys and between dark forests and over mountains. Maybe his feelings were even warmer than the sun's rays. Maybe he felt cold inside on nights when they were apart from each other. But Cas was not a simple man.

"I thought you would be asleep by now," that toe curling gravelly voice rested somewhere above his head. "But then," Dean peered up and stopped breathing, "you must be thinking of me as I'm thinking about you."

The feeling of quickly unravelling into those frayed edges again was slowly beginning to unsettle him. "Hi," Dean said in a soft voice, barely able to contain his amazement.

"Hello," Cas ruffled his hair, "Dean Winchester."

He was here. He actually was here. With him. Alone.

"It's funny but I was just…" Dean's chest was about to explode when the other man rounded the chair and settled in beside him, "I was really thinking about you." Inches apart. He counted five inches and hated distance so much. He loathed it.

"What were you thinking exactly?" Cas smiled as he considered the western lost on the television. Those blue eyes squinted a little, trying to ascertain the rampage occurring between two horses and a group of men.

"About us mostly," Dean supplied, flexing his fingers and realizing how in these crucial moments, the circulation of blood seemed to cease through hands that longed to touch. To close the distance. To feel. "In case you didn't notice, I've been thinking about us a lot lately, Cas."

When the other man remained silent, Dean swallowed. God why was he so nervous? Why couldn't he fall into a relaxed state of mind?

"So you must be tired, huh?"

"Are you trying to chase me?" Cas avoided eye contact.

"No!" Dean rushed out, breathless already. "Come on, that's not… shit, look. I'm really spacing out right now, Cas. And…you're really driving me crazy. I can't…I really can't even…" stumbling on his sentences, he decided to just shut up. To sit there, mouth clamped shut and wallow in shame.

"Dean," the other man said softly, "breathe. It's just me. I'm not a stranger. And I don't know why you're so anxious."

"So you're not?" those green eyes widened.

"Oh there's a hurricane ravaging inside my chest right now," Cas confessed with a shrug. "I'm as nervous as you are. But it doesn't hurt to reassure you that you shouldn't be."

Dean chuckled from the honesty. He really wanted to make this work. But then he was malfunctioning because he really hadn't done anything like this before. And to be so utterly in love with his best friend was nerve wrecking. It was like being fearful that the one person who mattered the most to you could break easily from just saying the wrong thing. And he didn't want to lose Cas at all. Not now. Not ever.

But the silence was there again. It always creeped up like an inky blackness between them and tried to choke him slowly. And it was like losing all hope all over again. Of running into an alleyway and hitting a brick wall. He was fucking frightened. Dean couldn't believe it. He chopped off vampires' heads, raided nests. He fought werewolves and a shitload of monsters. And now he was afraid to say something. Anything.

"Cas, I…" he began, realizing how his voice broke. "I really have so much to say but I don't know how to say everything. And I don't know how to ask the questions because I might ask the wrong questions and then I'll—" when he felt Cas' fingers entwined slowly and softly with his, Dean felt slightly dizzy, almost as if they were suddenly floating.

"What love does to you, Dean," Castiel squeezed the other man's fingers between his, "it's remarkable. For a man who is brave and has an answer to everything, here you are. Completely terrified."

For a full minute, the older Winchester fought with the tumbling words inside of his head. Dammit. He tried to think about Chuck releasing all the demons and how they ravished the earth in the short space of time allowed. He thought about how they had found a way to get rid of the danger. How they always found a way. How he always attacked with such courage. Nothing could stop him. Nothing at all. They always found a way, so why was this so damn difficult to maneuver through? Why was he constantly becoming stuck in the quick sand as doubt and fear sucked him in?

"I…um," Dean swallowed hard and quietly considered their hands linked together still. All the little slivers of electricity that shot through his fingers were slowly making their way to other parts of his body that had been numb for a long time since. He decided to settle back on the couch.

"I'll talk to you then," Castiel offered in such a low tone although he was breaking apart inside. "I'll talk to you until you are comfortable enough to tell me how you feel. Dean, I…" for a moment, as the crickets chirped outside and Cas struggled in his own way to formulate his feelings into words, the rain came down. "l love you so much more than you may ever know. To me, you are not just a man. You are a miracle. You have saved me in ways that I can never tell anyone else and you have killed me in ways that will never matter the more time I spend with you. I simply want you to…be with me. Here. Right now. And I don't want you to feel pressured into proving anything or elaborating on how you feel. Dean," their eyes locked. "I already know."

"So do you feel as if you can't really breathe when you're with me?" Dean braved all odds and kept their eyes connected. "Like you're suffocating?"

"I don't feel as if I'm suffocating," Cas shook his head. "Not really. I feel as if I'm waiting. I feel as if I'm holding my breath because I want you to hold me. To touch me. To kiss me."

Dean closed the distance between them and the inches didn't matter anymore. Fuck the inches. Now, as he slowly reached out for Cas, as his cupped fingers caressed the other man's perfect jawline, Dean finally understood what it meant to truly crave something so much, that you were literally on fire from not having it. So he touched him slowly and tenderly, each caress filled with all the affection desired. He trailed his thumb lightly across Cas hairline and marveled over how soft his dark hair was. Of how he looked so beautiful when he was breathless. Of how he trembled when Dean's thumb found his parted lips and touched exactly where he wanted to kiss.

Cas was falling apart every single second that slipped by. He was slowly unbecoming a celestial entity and becoming a human. An embodiment of swirling emotions and undisciplined desires. And behind those blue eyes, the softest shade of blue, there Dean's soul slipped in and found the meaning of home. And he wanted to stay there forever inside Cas' eyes. He wanted to become lost away in there. To lose himself.

"Look at you," Dean said softly, curling his fingers behind the angel's ear and quietly admiring the depth of their connection. "You're fucking gorgeous and I feel like I don't even deserve you."

"Dean," Cas' voice was barely a whisper. Reaching up weakly, he collected the other man's fingers into his hand. Then without a doubt, he brought those curled up fingers to his trembling lips and pressed a soft kiss onto Dean's knuckles. Slowly. On warm skin. His kisses were soft and warm and reassuring.

And a soft sound escaped from between the hunter's lips. A sound that was reminiscent of the heart sighing. Of not knowing anymore what composure meant or what being macho felt like anymore. Now Dean was gazing into pools of blue and drowning. His arms were flailing. His soul was contented and the scars, all of the scars were fading. And if he really and truly felt so overwhelmed and weak when he touched Cas, then was he prepared for the rest? Would he be able to stay alive? Or would he die?

"I love you," Cas said simply. His words were so soft, softer than the brush of the wind upon the curtains that barely moved. Yet the meaning was evidently stronger than the storm approaching. "Dean Winchester," Cas said in a voice that was not his own. "I love…you. I love you so much—"

Something moved at the corner of his eyes. Something big by the wall blocking the doorway. And then keys jingled. "Shit," Sam swore.

"Fucking hell," Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezed shut as tears leaked down his cheeks. "I hate you, Sam," he shook his head as Cas squeezed his hand and didn't let go. A soft chuckle escaped from deep within the angel as he glanced around and discovered the source of the interruption.

"I'm sorry!" Sam said, coming in with his hands held up in defense. "Look, I've got pretty bad timing, alright? I hate myself for it now. But I was just going to use the loo and—"

"Fuck you, Sam," Dean actually laughed through his tears. "You're such a dick."

Sitting back and tasting how salty his tears were between his lips, Castiel's chest heaved and he was shaking. He wasn't sad. Not quite. He was completely thrilled, his toes curled. And if he could really and truly be honest in that moment to himself, deep down inside, he felt like the heaviest weight had risen from off his chest by just uttering those three words to Dean.

Oh how he had wanted to say those words for such a long time now. Ten years? Every single season passing by without being able to just do it? With all the obstacles and the forks in the road and the unsettled one-night stands Dean fell into. But now, he had really done it. And he was so proud of himself.

"Dean, I'm so sorry," Sam said a while after when the two of them had decided to immerse themselves in Men in Black 2 whilst Cas had retreated to the spare bedroom. But Dean wasn't entirely focused on the movie at all. He was a million miles away. And his brother noticed without a pause. "I have really bad timing. And I suck as a little brother. I always did."

"You might be annoying as hell sometimes," Dean said, hugging the soft pink pillow with a white bunny on it, eyes glazed. "But you don't suck. At all."

Above all, they had always been there for each other even after parting ways, the two of them found their way back. And maybe over the years the disagreements that ended in fights were too dramatic. But both of them had learned that there were certain things in life that had to be experienced in order to bloom. And because they constantly picked up the pieces and sheltered each other, Dean felt cheated when he tried to find a way to talk to his brother and circumstances from their actions built up a brick wall.

"I mean, all I want is for you and Cas to sort things out," Sam raked back his locks, "Are you okay though? How are things going with you? I know that we haven't really been…talking much about it. But I keep thinking that you'll talk to me when you're ready."

Dean sighed. "For once in my life, Sammy," he stared hard at the television as his voice broke, "I really needed you to just get me in a corner before all of this and get me going. To talk things through."

"Look, I know you wanted to talk," Sam's chest pained from knowing that he could have delved a little deeper. "But after mom died, I did what I always learned to do when you lost someone you loved. I gave you your space. I figured that you'd come to me when you needed to and then we wouldn't have to fight about it. But then you weren't coming to me. And we suddenly didn't have time to even sit down and now I feel terrible that I let you go through this alone."

"Truth is," Dean sat up and reached for the remote, "I probably wouldn't have been able to string words together if you did talk to me. You want to watch this crap?"

"Dude," Sam seemed confused. "You love Men in Black."

"Not tonight I don't," Dean suddenly said softly, changing the channel and settling on Wheel of Fortune. "Tonight I feel like I'm not myself anymore."

"Are you happy at least?" Sam asked with hope in his eyes.

Dean nodded slowly. He bit his lips and played the question in his mind repeatedly. "Guess I am."

"Does he make you happy?"

"He does," Dean confessed in a low voice. Cas had retreated to his room, obviously shaken up and exhausted from the string of events. But he was missed so much already. His touch. Them holding hands. "He makes me so happy, Sam. But I'm so scared."

"If you weren't scared, then I'd be worried," Sam said, silky locks falling into his face as he played with the frills on a pillow. "This is new for you, Dean."

"I literally felt like my entire body, soul and everything went through some kind of trauma," the older Winchester confessed, considering his brother with saddened eyes. "Like I was hit hard, Sammy."

"But then you had to break yourself piece by piece to reach here," Sam reminded him. "Must have been hell for you. But I'm so proud of you, Dean. You have no idea how strong you are. I mean, when I found out how Cas felt about you a couple years ago, I kind of struggled with the idea of how you would react if he ever told you. And then I started realizing that you felt the same way about him. I'm not going to say that I expected it to be easy. I knew you would have to go through this. I just didn't want you to go through it alone."

"How long did you know, Sammy?" Dean reverted to childhood days when the two of them would sit in a motel room and talk about their lives at school for hours.

"That you fell in love with Cas?" Sam shrugged. "I guess it happened along the way to a point where I started to feel comfortable with the idea. But a specific date and time? Don't think I can estimate that. I feel as if it was always there. And I kind of confused it with admiration instead of attraction at first. Well until you started bitching about how he could never respect personal space."

"Hey, do you remember Aiden?" Dean really couldn't shake the memory from his mind at all. "I was like fourteen. You were about nine." Why did he suddenly want to explore this person from his tainted past?

"Oh yeah, Aiden!" Sam's eyes lit up from remembering. He squeezed the pillow and leaned forward. "Your first boyfriend."

Dean's eyes went wide. "He wasn't my…"

"He totally was. For a month," Sam's smile was bright. "And then dad made us bail from there. The two of you used to hang out together all the time. I remember he used to bring me Pop Tarts and it was a luxury back then. Cas kinda reminds me of Aiden though. Same color hair. I think he had blue eyes. Was always dorky and his hair was always ruffled."

"Dude, I have a type?" Dean staring wide eyed at Sam. "I swear, he suddenly came to mind when we were driving up here and I kept wondering why the hell I'm now remembering him. Now that you mention it, he was like a teenage Cas, wasn't he?"

Sam smiled. "Did you know since then that you could be…bisexual?" He wanted to delve deeper, to know his brother in so many ways that all the questions were there but he didn't want to bombard him. Dean was still pretty shaken up.

"I didn't know what that meant. I still don't think it says anything about me," Dean frowned. "Not really. Cas is the only guy I've ever had…I've ever felt attracted to. Like really attracted to."

"So have you kissed him as yet?" Sam had a mischievous glint in his eyes. Pressing the pillow to his chest, legs folded, his face beamed as a childish eagerness revealed itself.

"We almost did," Dean threw a scowl in his brother's direction. "Until you came barging in like a freaking disaster. And by the way," the older Winchester said matter-of-factly, "why would you even tell Cas that my boxers have little hearts on them? Not cool!"

Sam was hiding his laugh behind a hand. "Look, sorry about interrupting, man. Dude, that mixtape though."

"Right?" Dean's demeanor transformed into a look of utter surprise. "He was literally killing me softly with his songs. All the way here I was a mess. I am so exhausted right now, I could sleep about twelve hours tops."

"Well you were the one who snatched the tape from him and pushed it into the deck without thinking," Sam pointed out with a shrug. "Serves you damn right. And there was me, think about me, dammit! I had to like…sink so low in the backseat, whilst the car literally turned so hot with feelings flying between you two. Third wheel never sucked like now. And by the way, when the two of you get together, try to not have sex in the car."

When Dean's green eyes grew distant again and a small smirk turned up his mouth, his brother sighed.

"Come on, man!"

"Hey! Buy your own car then!" Dean fired back in all humor.

"Guys," Cas' voice suddenly sounded from behind them. Dean and Sam turned around like deer in the headlights. "Please, I'm trying to sleep. I'm so tired and I'm really not going to sleep if I keep thinking about me. And Dean. And the car. And the backseat."

Sam guffawed and quickly clamped his hands onto his mouth.

"How about I rephrase that?" Dean said smiling up at Cas. "How about you, Dean, the bedroom. The bed? Now?"

Cas shook his head and stared at the older Winchester. He sighed, turned around to head back to the bedroom then returned once more. "I'm not that easy, Dean," he said in a stern tone.

"It's easy for me to think about the backseat though," Dean helplessly furthered the moment. "What do you think?"

Cas stared at him. "You're going to have to do much more to get us there. What's the saying?" Turning up his chin a little, Cas appeared pensive. "Oh right," his eyes flicked back to Dean, "Actions speak louder than words."

"Oh there would be a lot of action," Dean glanced at Sam who sent him a warning look. "Lots of—"

"You're unbelievable," Cas suddenly said in a stiff tone. "Stop talking to me like a waitress you're picking up from a bar. Because if you want a one-night stand, then I'm not that inclined."

"Cas I was…" Dean was totally flabbergasted as the other man's footfalls padded away from them, "…joking," his sentence faltered. "Fuck." Covering his face with both hands, he felt so ashamed of himself.

What the hell had he done? Allowed his stupid mouth to fly away before thinking?

"Hey, don't be so hard on yourself," Sam patted his brother's back, really wishing that this was easy between him and Cas. "You've got to realize that both of you are so sensitive now. Maybe jumping the gun like that isn't exactly ideal right now."

"He's going to kill me," Dean flopped back onto the couch, hugged the pillow and squeezed his eyes shut as a tear slipped between his lashes. "I swear, Sam."

"Nah," His brother refused to allow such negative thoughts. "He's going to be the best thing that ever happened to you. You wait and see."


	9. Breaking

The day after Thanksgiving, Claire and Alex suddenly had the most brilliant idea to entertain a family movie marathon. The movies might have captivated Sam who adored the lifetime channel just like Jody. But Dean felt so terribly out of place, especially how painful the silence now felt between himself and Cas, that he quietly rose up and retreated outside onto the back porch. There, in the chair swing, he melted into the softness of the seat and collected a beer from the cooler.

Jody had taken two days off to spend time with the persons she considered as her family. But still her cellphone kept ringing and ringing, with leads on a new case she was working involving a suicide that could possibly be a murder. And just like Donna, Dean thought that Jody wasn't really taking a mini vacation at all. Instead, she was still involved in the case which terribly wounded Donna who had been trying to get them to spend time together.

After he couldn't really sleep during the night, Dean woke up feeling groggy at 5am. But he wasn't alone. Donna was pacing around in kitchen with a cup of steaming coffee grasped between her hands. And when she acknowledged his entry through the doorway, Donna couldn't even offer a full smile. Instead, she handed him a cup and both of them sat around the table with comfortable silence surrounding the space.

"I mean, I've been trying," Donna said eventually, circling her thumb around the lip of the cup and clearly lost in thought. "But then she keeps going about it as if it's not really a big deal. When it is, ya know?"

Dean sighed, sipped his coffee and felt so empty inside all over again. "Walking on a field of bombs."

"Sure feels like that," Donna nodded. "You too?"

He nodded slowly, hating himself for what had been revealed the night before. Why did he even say such senseless things? How could he even voice these terribly stupid things? Sex? In his car? How could he have even suggested that as a joke when things were still so fragile between the two of them?

"Dean, do you think that…" Donna suddenly stopped and stared at him. Then she blinked. "Do you think that she's just trying this out because she doesn't want to hurt me? I mean, you know her good enough as me."

"She's been through a lot of trauma," Dean reminded her as he listened to the wind rustling the leaves in the trees outside. "Jody hasn't exactly had a good past in the love department."

"I know that," Donna said frowning. "Don't you think I know that?" She closed her eyes and appeared as though the world was sinking in on her. "I just want to make this work. Well, look at me talking about myself alone like a fuss pot," Donna offered him a small smile. "I'm so happy for you and Castiel. You're the most adorable couple ever."

"We're not a couple," Dean said stiffly, avoiding eye contact and returning to his coffee.

"Oh," Donna said. "Well…" and afterwards, even though she struggled to find the right words, she just couldn't continue. So instead, they sat in solace drinking coffee until Jody showed her sleepy face at 6:30 and then things pretty much kicked off from here.

So there he was, literally lost within himself and really ignorant of the storm rolling in with frightening dark clouds. Dean honestly thought that they could never fix what had been broken between them. What he had broken. Because he was the most at fault, wasn't he? He had fucking screwed up and now, after all these years of terrible tension between them, Cas thought he was an asshole.

It was like leaping off a pier, believing that the water promised so much warmth, only to pierce the surface and realize that the temperature was below 0 degrees. He was freezing, literally and losing himself by never being really sure about what to do. What to say. This wasn't going to work at all if they kept taking steps backwards instead of purposely forward. And if they couldn't pass through this cloud of doubt and change, then Dean was afraid that either of them would really have to walk away for good.

But as he kept wallowing in his own thoughts on the patio, Cas curled up in the window seat and gazed at the storm coming their way. For a while he hadn't really been able to decipher his feelings in regard to Dean. He hadn't really gotten a chance to sit down and abundantly ponder on the damage done to such a precious thing. Because this was so much more than any of them and Cas was slowly beginning to wonder if he was the one at fault. And as he had been traversing the world, sitting on benches and beside rivers, most of his energy had been spent on shutting out what had occurred between them.

The constant feeling of going under and holding his breath. Of painfully drowning as he climbed those steps and left the bunker with the feeling of death within his body. Oh how he adored Dean. He loved him endlessly and completely because Dean helped him escape. He helped him to dream a little more of what could be instead of what was supposed to happen. Of what they could become instead of what they always were.

Now he was terribly conflicted because Castiel had all these raging feelings deep within him, of wanting Dean in every possible way and yet he felt as if something was owed. As if a little more construction was needed before they happened to go further than expressing their feelings. Dean needed to prove to him in more ways than one without a roll around in bed that what they were doing was worth it. That this could last and it was not merely a phase because it was something Cas thought of as permanent.

They moved through life in the eye of danger constantly, without sparing a second to just talk to each other. Really talk. Talk about themselves. Talk about their lives. What they wanted. And now that the situation had presented itself in more ways than one, Dean remained constipated as usual whilst Castiel craved to know how he really felt.

"Scoot over," Claire nudged his shoulder and smiled as she invaded his personal space; something Dean always detested.

She had been growing up so fast. If only he could have partaken in her life a little more. But she never allowed him to. Claire was independent and was always thirsty for danger. And whilst her blue eyes constantly raged with a flame for adventure, Castiel wondered why she was so reminiscent of Dean. Because they shared so many things in common. They hated to talk about their feelings. They despised being vulnerable, and placed in situations where their feelings had to rise into the open. And most of all, they loathed the idea of love.

Claire had lost her parents and so did Dean. Claire had been pushed into hunting for her father then her mother and so did Dean. She hated affection. Dean stiffened whenever Cas hugged him. Dean hated stuffed animals just like she did. And sometimes, maybe even more now as she sat next to him, Castiel dreamed about another path in life where he could have been in a female vessel and maybe they could have a child like Claire.

"Talk to me," she said simply, "because every time Dean sees me coming, he swerves. What's going on between you two?"

"Nothing for you to worry about," Cas said feeling chilly and wishing he had his coat on. "How is school?"

"Don't change the topic," she smirked at him. "So is Dean your boyfriend now?"

"Claire…we're…" Cas stopped and sighed, staring at the gathering in front of the television as Sam seemed so comfortable. "I really don't want to talk about it."

"Look, if he's being a dick, just let me know," she cracked her knuckles and scowled. "I'll kick his ass. And trust me, I'll try as hard as I can."

Her protective attitude towards him did not go unnoticed and he wrapped an arm around her affectionately. "I don't doubt that." Castiel pulled Claire into a hug. "Thank you for caring so much about me."

"At the end of the day, you're still my dad. You're wearing his body like a costume," she shrugged. "But over the years, I've grown to like you a lot because you're so badass. Plus, you're more human than angel. You have feelings. You care about me and I used to be such a prissy about it but now I see things differently."

Sam laughed hard and pointed at the television as Alex rolled her eyes. "I told you he's the killer! He was sleeping with the babysitter! Boom!"

"Thanks, Claire," he said softly.

"So Chuck really released all those souls from hell?"

"He did," Castiel suddenly realized that within the past three weeks or more, he hadn't really given much more thought to that; Rowena and Belphegor. All of it seemed so distant and insignificant in comparison to Dean. What they were was so fragile.

"Geez, I always miss out the good stuff. So like how many souls were there?"

"Too many to count. Is that pink in your hair?" Blue eyes squinted as Cas pried a chunk of pink from within her blonde locks.

"Stop being such a dad," she smiled and lashed his hand away. "Jody said that you guys sealed them back in the pit. How did you do it?"

_I'm not going down there in hell alone. I need one of you to go with me. _

_Cas will go with you. No worries._

Swallowing hard as the memory of Dean's hardened expression filled his mind, Cas suddenly didn't favor any kind of conversation. He wanted to be left in solace. Every single part of him had been shattered when those four powerful words had been uttered.

_You're dead to me._

"I'm going to take a walk," he said softly, "a breath of fresh air might do me some good."

"In the storm?" Claire watched him incredulously as he approached the front door. "Dude, it's crazy out there."

But nevertheless, Castiel persevered and collecting his coat from the hanger, he slipped into it and quietly lifted the latch. There was no need to alert Sam or anyone else as to where he was venturing off to. By choice, he wished to disappear without any burning questions because everyone had questions. Claire, even Jody seemed to be aching for the answers. Answers he could not provide.

The sky was dark and swelling with rain when his boots squished through the discarded leaves. Lightening streaked the sky and revealed flashes of burning energy that was terrifying to humans but marvelous to celestial beings like himself. And the more he thought about Heaven, the more Castiel felt weak and saddened and confused because contrary to Dean's belief in Chuck using them as chess pieces, he disagreed. He couldn't understand why Chuck would purposely weaken his angelic grace just because of how powerful love had proven to be. Would God himself will the loss of an angel to the burdened heart of a hunter?

For what purpose?

_You will save Dean Winchester. You will protect him. You will be his guardian angel._

Direct orders from a garrison of angels many years ago that had fallen by his hands. But where had those orders arisen from if not from God himself? Why would God want him to save and protect Dean and follow through as his guardian angel and then weaken his grace? It didn't make sense. Chuck might have a terrible sense of humor but Castiel did not for a second believe that falling for Dean was orchestrated by his father.

_You're getting too close to him. You need to step back or else you will be disciplined._

Uriel warned him. And then he was disciplined severely. He was pulled back into Heaven and secluded whilst they reminded him of the ultimate mission and how dangerous emotions and feelings were to their kind. But did he stick to what was hammered into him by Heaven? No. He rebelled. And because he rebelled constantly, Castiel didn't for a second believe that God would approve of his weakness: Dean Winchester.

Now, as he wandered into the back yard and stood still with his face upturned to Heaven, those blue eyes searched the stormy clouds for some kind of silver lining. A sign maybe, to prove to him that he still had even the slightest connection to his brothers and sisters. But there was nothing. He couldn't hear their voices anymore. He really didn't feel his grace and worst of all, Castiel was consumed in emotions and fears that were twice as terrifying now than before when he had been human.

But why was he so terrified even though his desired wish had ultimately come true? To have Dean feel the same way about him? Why was he so conflicted after knowing that Dean would literally do anything for him at this point? Castiel stood there in solace and realized that what he was most afraid of, was the look in Dean's eyes when he had blamed everything on him. The frustrated swirl in those green orbs. The angry, fisted hands and the stiff countenance. The furl of rage and the quickness in letting him walk away.

He wanted to forget all of the despair; Castiel really did. But every single time he decided to draw closer to Dean, he remembered the last time they fought. And maybe that was the evident shame in all of this chaos. Knowing that perhaps he could have it all but when he would take the leap completely, could something else come along and bring that rage back again? Would Dean push him away, blame him if something else went terribly wrong? And would they ever heal fully from that?

There was nothing worst than having it all but fearing the worst. Of knowing that the one person you love the most could drag you off the ledge and into insanity if something fell apart. And he hated that Dean's references to sex really made him anxious. Simply because he kept thinking about a long time ago when he materialized in Dean's room to confess his feelings, and there was the older Winchester twisting in the sheets with a woman. A one-night stand. And over the years he kept fearing that if they ever became something more, then he might end up being an impulsive decision.

He didn't want to Dean to jump into this without taking some time to feel how powerful their love really was. Because maybe he would take all there was and then move on to the next hunt. Or the next high. Or something would happen; maybe the world was still hanging on the edge of chaos and then after they leapt into the fight, maybe Dean would forget about him. And he would forget about what they had that was precious. And he would never hold him or kiss him or make love to him.

Castiel shivered within the storm capturing the little town Jody lived in. He hugged himself and felt so cold. He was consumed by all these shameful thoughts.

What if he wasn't what Dean wanted in bed? What if he wouldn't ever be enough? What if Dean changed his mind?

"Hey, Castiel!" Jody shouted from the porch. He turned around and observed her waving frantically. "Come inside! The storm is here! You too, Dean!" and when her eyes leapt to the familiar shape of a man standing not more than six feet away from him, Cas stopped breathing.

They locked eyes effortlessly and stared at one another. Fear. Confused. But most of all, the purest of love swirled around inside green eyes. And blue ones reflected the very same feeling. But then he kept remembering the doubts and the scars on his failing wings and he kept seeing love evolving into disappointment in Dean's eyes. And then he wanted to cry. He wanted to run away because this wasn't easy at all. Sitting on a bench by the Loch was easy. Traversing museums in Rome was easy. Staring at the Eiffel Tower at night was easy. But falling into Dean's arms was terrifying.

"Cas," the hunter said so softly, the howling wind seemed to mock him. Dean held out a hand, a pained expression crossing his face and he waited.

But he couldn't do it. His heart stopped beating and then Castiel felt like he would combust. So for the first time since they had known each other, when Dean wanted him the most, he turned around and stiffly walked away. Because he felt like they were two unstoppable forces trying to meet. Like they were going to explode if they gave in. And if coming together proved such weakness could envelope both of them, then he didn't really want Dean to be a broken man. No. He wanted him to be strong.

Dean couldn't believe it though. He suddenly felt so empty and so worthless, his hands began to tremble and his knees grew weaker.

What had he done to them? Had he done the ultimate wrong that would never be fixed by implying that they jump the gun? Sex. Was that it? But then he stood there and he suddenly realized that maybe the problem was him. Maybe Cas was the one who couldn't fantasize about them becoming intimate because Dean was a simple man; he was a human. He wasn't meaningful enough for Cas to consider in a sexual way and maybe Cas couldn't fantasize. Maybe that's what being an angel was like. Sex wasn't ever a big deal.

He felt so foolish and lost, Dean didn't even realize that the rain had started pouring in buckets and by the time Sam pulled him inside, the older Winchester was drenched from head to toe. He was shaking and at a loss for words. And even a cup of coffee couldn't generate any kind of heat because he had become so cold inside. And as he sat next to his brother at the table whilst everyone else wrapped up in front of the television immersed in a Lifetime movie marathon, Dean's emptiness turned his mind into a monster again.

He was back in his cold room inside the bunker and there was nothing that could prove to him that life was worth living anymore.

You are nothing, Dean Winchester. You are empty because you have no feelings. You are worthless. You are a failure. Everyone you love dies. Everyone you love leaves. You are not capable of love. You are alone. No one misses you. No one cares except Sam because Sam is obligated to care since he feels like he has to return the favor of taking care of you since you took care of him. But he doesn't care about you. He wants a normal life away from you. He always has.

"Dean—"

He wanted a wife with a dog and a bungalow in the middle of nowhere. Law school. Kids. Not hunting with someone like you. Someone who is heartless and a murderer. Someone who cares about people who don't care about him. Someone who saves people who never remember him. And Cas…

"Hey—" Sam's voice was so distant.

Cas doesn't want you because he's slowly realizing what's wrong with you. He's seen the damage and he's trying to distance himself. He doesn't want to take care of a wounded soldier who has no hope. A wounded soul who has no meaning.

"Dean, snap out of it," Sam tugged at his arm. "Come on, dude. Wherever you are, don't go there. Come back."

Blinking his eyes slowly as Jody's cozy living room materialized in front of him, Dean shook his head. "Sorry."

Sam sighed. He offered a sympathetic look. "Don't be sorry. What's going on?"

"I just…" Dean sounded so lost, his voice was barely audible, "am so done."

"With?" Sam leaned a little closer and considered his brother's face. "Cas?" But there was no answer.

And suddenly, Sam knew. He had become familiar with the daunting face of depression because he had suffered through it. He understood that the emptiness within his brother's green eyes was consumed with dangerous thoughts. And Sam honestly wanted to hug him.

"It's going to get better," Sam said softly, "trust me, Dean. It feels bad now. Like you're walking on broken glass. But it will get better. I'm not going to tell you to stop thinking like that because it's the hardest thing ever. What you can do though, is to focus on getting through every minute by breathing. By feeling how alive you are. Because you're feeling pain, Dean. And because you're feeling pain and sadness, that means you're alive. And you have to stay that way because get this, you're changing into someone stronger and better and someone who is worth it, okay?"

He nodded, fighting back the tears. Dean bit his lips, the love for his brother so tremendous, he couldn't survive without him.

"Cas, he's changing too and because both of you are changing at the same time, maybe that's why this is so hard. But you can't give up. Not on him. Not on life. He needs you, Dean –"

"He doesn't," the older Winchester hung his head, arms folded on the table. "What he needs is someone who has their shit together. And that someone isn't me."

Soft footsteps padded towards them, approaching from behind and when Sam didn't offer a reply, Dean knew. He always felt Cas. Always. And it hurt because he could feel him but he couldn't touch him and he wanted to so much. He wanted to reach out and hold him. But Cas didn't want him. Not really.

"Cas, come sit with us," Sam offered up a chair. "You want a cup of coffee?"

There was no answer so Dean, hiding his face in folded arms, decided that Cas had offered an inaudible answer. What shocked him though was the feel of the chair on his right slowly being pulled out and then the brush of warmness against his thigh indicated that Cas had chosen to sit next to him. Why, he wasn't certain of but the tension consuming him grew so intense, Dean literally felt as if his chest was going to explode and his heart would leap out.

"How you holding up?" Sam asked from across the two of them.

"Not so good," Cas returned in a wounded voice. He sighed, considering Dean's weakened composure which displayed him as being completely different from his usual self.

"The weather though," Sam decided to hold back on addressing the elephant in the room. "Puts you in a gloomy mood. Hey I've seen that movie before," he said, trying really hard to cheer Dean and Cas up, "so get this. The girl and her friend find a diary with a bunch of weird stuff inside. Then their wishes start coming through and one of the girls use the book to her advantage to hurt people who don't like her."

"Sounds like something we encounter on our day jobs," Dean mumbled, lifting his head up a little to peer at the television. "Set in high school too. Figures." He buried his head into his arms again and wished that Cas wasn't sitting so damn close to him that he could literally feel how comfortably warm he was.

"So since you brought up high school," Sam said cheerfully, although he was choosing his words wisely, "I'm going to tell Cas a few things about you that he probably doesn't know."

Dean groaned but didn't reply. And Cas blinked, sitting back upon the chair as he appeared completely lost, his blue eyes were stormy from swirling thoughts.

"Every school we went to, Dean always ended up on the basketball team as the star player. The girls went crazy over him," Sam's eyes flicked to his brother who was rolling his head around within his arms. "But this one year we stuck around long enough and he got the chance to go to prom. And because so many girls wanted to go with him, he actually said yes to all of them. Turns out, he wasn't really liked after that night. So we had to move. I heard there was a big fight, like girls lunging at each other just because of him," Sam gesticulated by clawing the air, glee on his face. "And my brother came home, fell into bed and slept like a baby. The next day, we had to move because people starting egging the hotel."

Cas' lips tugged upwards. "Oh. And what did your father do?"

"Well he was kind of damn pleased at first when all of these girls kept showing up to talk to Dean," Sam explained, "but then when the parents started coming around, we packed up fast and left. Dad always called him a chick magnet after that. He hated it." Sam considered his brother with a smile. "Remember that, Dean?"

The older Winchester kept his face hidden between his arms and he nodded. Please stop, Dean pleaded inaudibly. Stop it, Sam. Don't try to make things better like you always do. Don't try to make me happy because I feel like I never ever will be.

"Have you ever heard his pickup lines?" Sam asked Cas who was sadly considering Dean's refusal to face either of them. "They're hilarious."

"I have witnessed a few first hand," said Cas. "Regrettably though."

"Huh," Sam thought about how Cas must have felt to have Dean hit on a woman right next to him. "Probably sucked to sit there and watch him flirt."

"I felt as if the flirting wasn't necessary," Cas provided. He glanced at Dean. "He could capture the attention of any woman he desired without the use of corny pickup lines."

"And boy does he use them over and over again. I think something's wrong with my phone," Sam mocked his brother with a smile, "because it doesn't have your number in it."

Cas chuckled, shaking his head. "Very smooth."

"Or, are you French? Because Eiffel for you." Sam loved that Cas' smile was returning. "Or when he got slapped after asking if a girl if she's new in town because he needed directions to her place. That one was sick."

"What?" Cas was flabbergasted as he looked at Dean's ruffled hair. "Did you really ask a girl that?"

"Yeah," came the muffled reply.

"Dean, come on," Sam was growing frustrated with his brother's choice to completely drown himself in his arms. Cas was trying. He really was. And he was evidently broken too because of the look in his eyes.

But then nothing was done to remedy the situation. Cas and Sam continued to chat about random things and it reached a point where evidently the uncomfortableness was really affecting Cas. Because he sat there, staring at the older Winchester whilst Sam tried to engage him in conversation.

"Dean," he tried again. "You're not helping."

"What?" Dean suddenly rose up and stared at his brother. And when Sam noted that his eyes were wet from crying, he instantly regretted his suggestion for the older Winchester to contribute his full attention to the conversation.

Sam swallowed hard as he offered Dean a saddened look. And Cas…

Cas was staring with such softness in his look that it should have been a crime to look at anyone with so much tenderness. Almost as if love was threatening to burst open like a fruit and spill all the beautiful affections allowed. If Dean could have only seen the way Cas looked at him in that moment, then Sam thought that maybe he wouldn't feel so bad after all. Maybe he would have felt so much better. But instead, he wiped away the tears with the heels of his palms and his reddened eyes fixated upon the television on his left, whilst Cas gazed at him on the right.

"When you two are like this," Sam said, hating himself for running out of ideas to get them together faster, "I just wish if you would see yourselves from where I'm sitting. I mean, you're both so in love with each other. And yet you're finding every single little thing that should mean nothing to build a wall between yourselves. Maybe if you looked at each other in the eyes like in the old days, then you'd see what's really happening here. Dean…"

"What, Sam?" the older Winchester asked in a hoarse voice.

"Look at Cas." Sam wasn't holding back now. "Now."

But Dean slowly shook his head, staring hard at the television as Alex laughed at the movie. "No."

"Why?" Sam frowned. "You really can't look at the one person you love the most in the world? Are you trying to say that Cas is not good looking? Jeez. You love his eyes, remember you told me that? Cas' eyes are like the ocean. So look at them."

Squeezing his own pair shut, Dean breathed in slowly and he bit his lips, still not giving in.

"His hair…" Sam tried again. "All messed up. His soft hands."

"Sam," Dean's face contorted from an inner pain that originated from his heart, "stop."

"Why?" The younger Winchester asked in a softer tone. "Dean, you actually have a really handsome dude sitting next to you who is literally hoping with everything he has that you can look at him and you're not going to –"

Dean suddenly pushed himself up, without saying a word, and he headed towards the bedroom he had been occupying. No one saw him leave except Cas and Sam. And when he went in and closed the door, the former felt as if a part of his heart had been ripped away. For the first time he understood what it could feel like to lose Dean Winchester when all he had was love to give. And it was Cas' turn to stare at Sam with tears in his eyes.

"I need you to help us," Cas pleaded as his fingers curled upon the table. He begun to cry softly. "Sam, please. I don't know how to do this and I need your help."

"Tell me what's really going on," Sam offered a frown, evidently his demeanor had changed. "Because honestly Cas, I really think Dean has been trying as hard as he can to make this work. But something is holding you back. Last night, I don't understand how a stupid joke about sex from Dean upset you. You know Dean. He's like that. And in case you haven't noticed, he's getting worst. So if we really can't fix this between the three of us then I really think Dean's going to need some more help, from seeing someone. And he hates shrinks. So let's talk."


	10. Unbecoming

Whilst Dean lay curled up in bed with his headphones on, green eyes lost in the haze of the rain pouring outside the window, Sam listened to his best friend expel every single doubt and fear he had entertained over the last three weeks.

He listened and didn't interject for a while; learning about the shadows and secrets buried inside of Cas that had really wounded him for a long time. Only to rise up now and cloud his judgment.

Being a mediator felt natural to him; like he was living up to his desired purpose in life. Kind of like finally helping both of them to stay afloat although the waters were really murky.

"So you think that he will touch and go," Sam leaned back in his chair and considered Cas who had stopped crying. "Like a one-night stand then."

"Yes."

"Between you and me though," Sam sighed, "out of all the hook ups Dean has ever had, have you ever seen him collapse like this with anyone else? Even Lisa?"

Cas stared at him and frowned. He shook his head. "No."

"Then why would you even think for a second that Dean would jump into this and then change his mind?"

"Because I've seen him hold onto one relationship and everything else has been impulsive and none of them has lasted longer than two days," Cas couldn't quite elaborate due to the fact that he felt doubts rather deeper than any explanation would provide.

"But Cas, none of his past relationships or hook ups have ever involved you," Sam said softly, slowly swirling around what was left of his cocoa inside the cup. "You're different in so many ways. You two have a profound bond, remember?"

The other man sighed. "You have a point."

"Oh I have a few points," Sam smiled and leaned forward. "Firstly, I think the two of you are like this because you haven't kissed each other as yet. It's been weeks, Cas! Truthfully, it's been years and when you kiss, everything is going to fall into place."

Cas' cheeks were brushed with a red tinge that quite evidently meant one thing. "I just am not sure how to do it."

"Do what?" Sam frowned.

"Kiss him," Cas' voice broke. He shyly glanced away. "This is awkward. I'm asking his brother for advice."

"No, no!" Sam held up his hands. "Dude, it's perfectly fine. Sure he's my brother but I want the best for him too and I believe that you have the best intentions. But I can't really help you with that, Cas. You need to figure that out on your own and trust me, the right time will come. Soon. All I've got to say is when you feel like doing it then do it."

And possibly it was the worst advice ever because in regards to where they were at that point, Dean really couldn't even look at him. Not when there was a thunderstorm raging away in his soul. So how could the actuality of a kiss between them become something real? Something that either of them could treasure, to feel, to fall back on for many years to come?

On his pursuit towards the window seat though, Castiel paused by the bedroom door that was slightly ajar. Bracing himself, he slowly pushed his way in and boldly stepped over the threshold, hoping that Dean was wide awake and perhaps willing to talk. But as the rain rushed down the gutters and hammered the roof of the house, Castiel couldn't help but hold his breath when he discovered the other man sleeping on his left side.

Dean was curled up like a comma, his back towards the door and he had his headphones on still. The ACDC blue t-shirt he had slipped into was bunched up by his lower back, the soft smooth skin exposed pulling Castiel's eyes and lingering there for quite some time. And even though his eyes wandered free, he still felt terrible that his hands could not feel. That they hadn't touched already. Because he was slowly beginning to crave Dean's warmth. And he wanted to wrap Dean within his arms and offer as much comfort as possible.

But he couldn't. So Castiel went forward softly on the tip of his toes and he collected the blue wool blanket from the bedside table. Then carefully, he draped the cover over Dean as the temperature in the house had dropped significantly and both of them were already trembling from their feelings. And when he lightly tucked the edges around Dean like a burrito, Cas listened to the other man's slow labored breaths; almost as if he was struggling to gain some kind of sense of peace from the world because he couldn't find solace anymore.

When he moved towards the window to secure the latch though, Castiel happened to glance into the fogged glass. The weather had darkened the trees outside, casting an eerie feel on the neighborhood. And when he discovered that Dean's eyes were barely open from his reflection in the glass, Castiel froze. His hands fumbled with the blue lace curtains that gently moved from the wind's caress. And as if bracing himself for the ultimate life or death conversation they had ever had between them, he turned around and looked at Dean.

They literally couldn't say anything to each other for a full minute though.

Whilst Dean struggled to contain his darkest thoughts, Castiel fought to muffle his doubts. Both of them were fighting silent wars that built walls that they found hard to climb over. But the one common factor was that they couldn't live without each other. They were aware of this simple truth. Knowing that when their eyes connected, green ones teared up whilst blue ones grew so much softer from the complete love felt.

Castiel took a few tentative steps towards Dean still curled up on his side. Thunder rolled above them like drums. And he felt like he was on a mine field.

"Hello, Dean," he said softly, hands hanging limply at his side.

"Are you going to watch over me as I sleep?" the other man asked in a hoarse voice as he slowly slid off his headphones, "because I really don't plan on waking up."

"Dean!" Cas cried hoarsely, literally feeling his heart break into a million more pieces. "Please don't say that."

"Why?"

Cas watched the other man pull the covers tighter around him until only half of his face peeked out. "Because I can't lose you," he said, fearing that the moment would escalate into a fight.

"Then why are you doing this to me, Cas?" Dean's eyes leaked tears and he was suddenly a different person. A man who had been dragged down into the pits of darkness from changing and loving someone who was as broken as he was.

"I'm sorry," Castiel said in low tone, wishing he could suck all the pain out of the room.

"You're sorry?" Dean offered a strained expression of sadness overwhelming him. "You don't get to say that you're sorry when you've already changed me."

"Then I will…make this better," Castiel provided as lightening flashed in the room.

"How will you make this better, Cas?" Dean was motionless, almost as if he was captured in the jaws of depression and couldn't release himself from its clutches.

"I'll find a way. For both of us."

"Us," Dean's chest heaved as he swallowed a sob. "Do you know what _us_ feels like right now, Cas? I can literally feel you in my blood. Inside of my…heart. And you're killing me. And the funny part is, it's not like poison. It's more like me wanting you so bad, every single second that goes by and I can't touch you, I feel like I'm dying."

"Dean—" Cas drew nearer, tears filling his eyes.

"No. Don't." Those green eyes suddenly swirled like the storm outside. "Not now. I'm not okay. Go away, Cas," Dean croaked, burying his face deep inside the blanket so that none of him showed.

"I'm not leaving," Cas' voice was breaking. He didn't want to go. Not ever. "Remember when I told you that I…love you, Dean Winchester?" There was no response though. So drawing up a chair from beside the window, he sat down. "I meant it. And I…am not going to –"

Dean's sobs stopped him so suddenly, Castiel felt like his heart was suffocating from the painful sounds. He understood the magnitude of what love felt like for him. But he couldn't ever anticipate how terribly wounded Dean sounded. Almost as if he was in so much pain, nothing in the world could heal him. Nothing at all. Not even Castiel. And that's when he realized that Dean really needed something to change and to change fast. Or else he was going to wither away.

"I've been…behaving the way I do because I'm afraid," Cas began, knowing to himself that the wall between them would crumble if he just emptied out his feelings. "I'm afraid that you'll be the one who ends up being disappointed in me. And then you'll move on to something else. And I…am stupid for what I thought last night, but I feared that you would…treat me like a one-night stand and then when you couldn't find anything interesting about me, you would lose interest."

Dean said nothing. Instead, he stopped crying and was evidently listening still wrapped in his cocoon of sorrow.

"Everything about you is so extraordinary, Dean," Cas continued quickly, realizing that the other man was absorbing his words. "And I'm so plain. You might counter by bringing up my qualities as an angel but when my grace is stripped away, what am I? I'm…" Castiel held up his hands and considered trembling fingers, "not exciting nor am I well versed in romance. I'm afraid of lacking everything you expect. Dean, I've seen the women you chase after. They're beautiful and colorful and their personalities are rather thrilling but me? I'm just a baby in a trench coat."

Green eyes peeped out from under the blanket. Dean blinked slowly.

"Dean, I…" Cas gazed at him and wondered if he still stood a chance, "…I don't know how to do this. I've never done it before. A relationship. I need you to understand that I am frightened I will fail. I have never meant to hurt you. And if you would rather I really leave you alone, then just say the words and I'll go."

For a long time Dean just gazed at Castiel as the flashes of lightening were followed by the rumble of thunder. Even with their eyes locked, so much more was expressed. Dean felt like he was somehow a little less empty because of Castiel's confessions. At least now he was aware of the other man's frivolous fears.

"Stay," he said so softly as the rain lashed the windows.

Cas breathed out a sigh of relief and he settled into the softness of the chair as his chest heaved.

"You can sleep on the bed," Dean said without moving.

"No I'm comfortable where I am," Cas folded his legs under him and pulled a spare blanket from nearby onto himself.

"So you don't want to be in the same bed with me," Dean's voice was so small.

"No," Castiel said quickly, shaking his head. "No, it's not that. Dean, I –"

"Get your ass in bed with me," Dean demanded hoarsely as the thunder rolled. "You want to make things right between us? Then stop making me feel as if you don't want to be close to me. I'm not going to combust, Cas. I might be a million pieces inside, but I need you."

"Okay," swallowing a lump in his throat, Castiel made his way to the other side of the bed and he climbed in, pulling the blanket along with him. And as he settled his head onto the spare pillow, Dean turned around, still wrapped like a burrito with his face barely peeking out.

They merely gazed at each other for a while. Nothing was said. But only softness showed in Castiel's blue orbs. And although Dean's eyes were still projecting a painfully dark world behind them, he still gazed back at the other man with such fondness. Cas' heart melted.

"You're never going to be a one-night stand," Dean said softly. "You're not plain. You're always going to be my angel. And Cas," he bit his lips.

"Dean," the other man tasted the name and held his breath.

"You're not a baby in a trench coat," Dean said simply. "You're the king of my heart."

When Cas identified the source of the reference after a few seconds, he actually smiled. "Really, Dean? Taylor Swift?"

"She's your favorite singer," Dean said smiling. "I've been listening to her songs because of you, _lover_."

"Dean," Cas' eyes teared up. "Stop, you're going to make me cry. You really have been listening to her songs? Because of me?"

Slowly, Dean released one of his hands from the cocoon and he reached for his phone. Then unlocking it, he handed it over to Cas who instantly cast his attention on to the screen.

Biting his lips, he smiled as tears filled his eyes. Dean had really been listening to at least six of Taylor Swift's albums. And he had even favorited a few songs like 'Don't Blame Me' and 'All Too Well'.

"Dean, you're officially a Swiftie." Cas handed back the phone and after collecting it, Dean sighed. "What's wrong?" Cas asked with a frown.

Scrolling through his playlist, Dean bit his lips and then he slowly rested the phone between them. "This is how I feel about you right now," he said. "And don't laugh at my chick songs."

"I'm not going to," Cas was enveloped with so much warmth and love for the other man.

When The Veronicas 'In My Blood' started to play, all he could do was simply listen. To every word, to every meaning. Castiel felt every single emotion coursing through Dean's body because all he could decipher from the look in those green eyes was so much depth. And so much love.

_Now you got me wanting more,_

_I felt religion with you on the floor,_

_You're the magic dust that gets me stoned,_

_You're the hallelujah on my throne._

When Dean's eyes slowly fluttered close, Cas reached out and softly, he caressed the other man's perfect features with cupped fingers. He seemed so peaceful after sleep captured him into its grasp. But then deep within him was a turmoil of emotions. Desire. Fear. Doubt. Anxiety. Depression. And maybe just maybe, the walls were slowly becoming flimsy and he found that he could reach inside of Dean's space and play his fingertips on the beauty of a man who honestly thought that he didn't deserve to be loved.

Dean deserved to be loved endlessly. Completely. Without regret. Without fear or doubt. Dean should be sheltered and hugged and kissed and repeatedly reminded how amazing he was. How perfectly flawed he was. How he had a heart capable of so much love that Castiel didn't feel as if he deserved him.

And when both of them fell asleep as the world was drenched from the raging storm, lit up by lightening and racked with thunder, they dreamed of each other. Dean felt like he was slowly beginning to feel better again. Slowly though. And Cas…Cas really and truly was captivated in his dream by the smell of leather as he welcomed Dean's caresses and tender kisses all over him in the backseat of the '67 Impala.


	11. Bonding

The next day since the storm hadn't fully passed over and had headed into the next town down the line, the trio had to stay a little longer. And whilst Alex, Claire, Jody and Donna left to immerse themselves in shopping, Sam settled into the couch before the television and drowned in one Lifetime movie after the other.

Dean woke up to the feeling of being entirely paralyzed until he realized that his entire body was still wrapped between the blanket. But even before he could unwrap himself, he really and truly melted after casting his gaze on Castiel sleeping soundly on the other side of the bed. The distance between them was close to twelve inches. He had actually estimated that much. And every single inch hurt him so deeply.

The rise and fall of Castiel's chest. The soft look on his face. He still had on his trench coat because the dude lived inside of it like a cape. But the two top buttons of his grey shirt had become undone through the night and Dean held his breath as he admired the smooth expanse of perfect skin under the other man's neck. And he wanted to just allow his fingertips to explore. But they were so fragile after last night, Dean feared that he might get a negative response from initiating any kind of intimate contact.

Just as those mellow blue eyes fluttered open though, Sam was losing his shit in the living room. Like literally trying to convince himself that he wasn't such a fantastic genius after all. That he couldn't have been sitting there in front of the television and suddenly thinking up of the most brilliant plan ever to get his brother and his best friend on good terms again. But now…

Now Sam had to wait. He had to plan things perfectly. And he had to be slick about it.

"Good morning," Castiel said in his usual gravelly voice, and smiling at Dean. Green eyes were like warm emeralds, searching for a home; a safe place and feeling.

"Hey," Dean offered, turned on his side and admiring every inch of the other man's face. "Doesn't feel like a good morning. But looking at you feels like I'm in my own kind of Heaven."

His words could always seem so simple and yet…were so powerful.

"How are you feeling?" Castiel wanted to know. He feared the worst after the night before. They had been so fragile; about to break even further.

Dean sighed. "Like a tomato in a blender."

"I'm so sorry that we've been like this," Castiel provided with a frown. "Dean, do you still feel like you have no hope anymore?"

The other man blinked his eyes slowly. "One minute at a time."

"This morning, am I still the king of your heart?" Castiel's lip twitched into a smile.

"You'll always be," Dean said softly as the sunshine tried to fight its way through stormy clouds. "Cas, I'm really glad that you talked to me last night about your fears. Even though I was so low, I needed to hear why you were holding back. But don't ever think that you're just another fling for me. Sometimes I feel as if we've been together for a long time and we just haven't ever taken time off to be a normal couple."

"So are we ever going to be a couple?" Cas tried, holding his breath, wondering if maybe a hint of humor could perhaps fuel a waterfall of happiness inside the other man's soul.

Dean actually smiled. "Are you asking me if I'm ever going to be your boyfriend? Because I don't like the term. At all."

Cas merely sighed. "So what label do you prefer if we become a couple, Dean Winchester? Do you prefer me to refer to you as my significant other? My other half? My lover? My manfriend? Or do you prefer a pet name?"

"Now I'm itching to hear what pet names you have in mind," Dean's smile was really soothing Cas' heart.

"Um, well I can't call you baby because the term is evidently a name for your precious car."

Dean bit his lips and tried to conceal his smile. "You know you love my car," he threaded carefully.

"I dreamt about your car whole night," Cas admitted as a blush crept up from his neck and rested on his cheeks.

Green eyes widened. "Now I'm not feeling so bad inside after all. You have to tell me what you dreamt. Don't spare the details."

"Dean—" Cas seemed to struggle with his words. "I can't because I want to keep dreaming until the time comes –"

"When we what?" Dean tried to maintain a straight face but his cheeks were dusted with pink.

Cas realized that he was drowning in green pools of adoration. "When we…kiss," he simply said, hoping to the Heavens that maybe this was the right moment. And maybe, they would finally take the leap. Close the distance.

But then something changed in Dean's eyes. Something moved behind his gaze so quickly, Cas tried to decipher what it was but he couldn't. Perhaps it was doubt? Maybe what he had witnessed was Dean slowly falling back into his dark state of mind. Because gradually the other man let go and he seemed to move so further apart from Cas without physically doing so. That eventually, the air between them remained silent and filled with question marks.

"Dean, what happened just now?" he asked quietly, fearing the worst.

In response though, the hunter merely blinked and rolled away. Then slowly but surely, he rose up from the bed and facing the window, Dean stretched and yawned.

"Dean?" Cas tried again, feeling a wave of coldness creep around his chest.

"Nothing, Cas," the hunter said moving towards the window. He parted the blinds and surveyed outside. Sam had brought around the car after his morning run. "Looks like today's gonna have some more rain."

Always. Five steps forward and then ten steps backwards. Would they ever continue down a path of trust, and certainty?

"Why did you just leave me like that?" Cas asked in an unsure tone. He hated the coldness inside his chest. It made him feel like he was trapped inside a blizzard. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No," Dean laughed nervously, swinging his arms to and fro. Still though, he avoided Cas' eyes. "And I haven't left you. I'm right here with you."

"Then why does it feel like you're miles away?" The question burned inside of his chest. He suddenly felt so human, maybe he just wasn't an angel anymore.

"I'm going to take a shower," Dean said in a wary tone, collecting his towel and toothbrush from his duffel bag. "Maybe a hot shower will make me feel like I'm alive and not a walking dead." And even before Cas could provide an answer, the headed towards the adjoining bathroom and closed the door.

Everything literally felt like he was walking on fire. Cas couldn't move because he felt so confused and raw inside all of a sudden; it was almost as if last night was leading up to bliss and then this morning they clearly had another hurdle to jump over. It seemed like every single day there was some kind of mental challenge for them to face. And he wondered when this would become easy. When would they reach a point where they didn't have to wander through broken glass?

Dean said that he felt like he was dead. Had the table reversed now? After expressing that Cas was dead to him, was he now slowly becoming dead to himself and eventually would expect Cas to share the same sentiments?

He had always been so strong. He always hunted with such fierceness, with such vengeance. Dean always pulled through regardless. And even when the world was ending, he found a way to survive. Even when there were hellhounds after him, he faced the end and didn't back down. But now, it was almost as if Dean had given himself no kind of grace period. And he was letting himself go fast.

Why?

Later in the morning when Sam dragged Dean out to get some fresh air in the Impala, Cas was left to scan the channels for something interesting to watch. Something to take his mind off of everything that was falling apart in his life. And when he discovered a documentary on the lives of bees, his entire demeanor took on a much more relaxed look. And settling into the chair, Cas sipped on a cup of tea and he became immersed in the construct of nature.

Half an hour later though, his phone buzzed and he squinted his eyes at the sound, wondering if a bee had been trapped in the room. Couldn't be. There were no bees around the vicinity. He had checked. Guiltily. He had also noticed that there were in approximation four cats and twelve dogs belonging to the neighboring houses. Added to that, someone was concealing a guinea pig in the basement, possibly for an experiment. He had hoped to free it. But so far, far more concerning matters had come up.

He had one text message from Dean and holding his breath, Cas opened it.

_Hi. I feel so bad about everything that is happening between us. I really want to keep trying :)_

Cas' heart melted from the words. His fingers trembled a little as he thought of a response.

_Dean, I feel terrible too. We'll both keep trying until we fix this. _

Settling into the chair, he held up the phone between his hands and stared at it for a long time. Until…

_Will you go on a date with me tonight? Just checked out a place. Cosmos. 7:30pm :)_

Dean really wanted them to…

Cas stared at the phone and literally felt as if his heart was leaping from joy. But then he was also nervous. Anxious. The two of them like old times sharing a table with no distractions? Lots and lots of time available to talk to each other? This wasn't like old times though. He used to watch Dean eat and then they would chat lightly about their lives. But now, they had become so much more than friends and Dean seemed to be uncomfortable about that change.

_Of course I will go on a date with you. _

In less than a minute, his phone buzzed.

_Cool. Ditch the trench coat :)_

The nerve of Dean Winchester, Cas scowled. Asking him to discard of his coat in this kind of weather. Anyway, he had a special evening to look forward to. This should be interesting.

Later that day when Cas was sleeping like a baby in the chair swing out on the back porch, Dean was drowning in a western movie. With a bowl of Lays chips on his lap and a blanket wrapped around his neck, he was enjoying himself a little too much and damn did he need this. The rush. The wave of delight in trying to find an escape. And boy was this an escape.

Just as two cowboys drew their guns and prepared for a fight, his phone dinged. With no regrets, he ignored the device for a good three minutes until the scene had settled back into a slower chain of events. And then, only then did he pick up his phone and check the display.

A message from Cas was not something that he had been expecting. Lately, Cas hardly used his phone at all to text him. So opening the message, Dean prepared himself for anything out of the ordinary because maybe the guy had wandered off into the neighborhood and had found a pair of puppies he wanted to collect. Or maybe he had discovered a hive of bees and wanted Dean to collect one in a jar for self-study.

_Dean, I feel so bad about everything that is happening between us. I really want to keep trying :)_

Not now, Cas. I'm in the middle of a freaking bad ass western. I don't want to go back there. Dean held the phone between his hands and sighed.

_You and I both. Stop blaming yourself, man. _

One of the cowboys held a strange resemblance to Cas and Dean scowled, hating himself for latching onto that feeling.

_Will you go on a date with me tonight? I was just wandering around and found a place. Cosmos. 7:30pm :)_

Dean stared at the phone and couldn't breathe. No way in freaking hell had Cas just asked him out. What the…he studied the message over and over again, wondering if this was some kind of a joke. But it couldn't be. Not really. They had been trying yeah. But a date? He was so nervous in that moment, Dean felt ashamed of himself.

He would totally become a mess if they ended up at a table together. He would start blushing and stumbling over his words. And then he would start saying the most ridiculous things. Cas had no idea what he was proposing here. Sitting across the table, with no other choice but to cast his eyes on blue ones that could drown him?

_Yeah why not? Thanks for jumping ahead before me though. I wanted to ask you out first. _

He waited and when there was no response, Dean sighed, settled back on the chair and eventually forgot all about the movie as his mind wandered into what to expect that evening. But then when he had exhausted all the scenarios, and kind of wound up thinking the worst, Dean gave up.

Sam, however, was grinning like a hyena from the doorway.

Bingo.

Everything was settled now and the idea had been so brilliant, he patted himself on the back, wondering why he hadn't thought of something like this years ago. Maybe even five years ago tops would have done it. By now, Dean and Cas would have probably been married, raising a kid and living in bliss. Now though, he rested Cas' phone on the table and quietly snuck out of the house to make reservations for a table for two.

It wasn't easy though; to prepare himself for an official date. Dean stood in front of the bedroom mirror and hated how his hair spiked up in all directions after washing. He cursed the cheap shampoo. He didn't like how his Irish Spring body wash smelled all of a sudden and then he loathed how he had bags under his eyes.

By seven o'clock, he was in such a nervous state. What the mirror reflected back at him was the image of a man who had somehow lost his way in the pursuit of love. A man who was grasping at straws. A man who was decked out in a blue and purple plaid shirt, a pair of faded blue jeans, and still he felt undesirable. He didn't see anything particularly pleasing about his appearance anymore. Gone were the days when Dean really was proud of how damn good he looked. But now…

Castiel decided that a walk would suffice, to clear his mind before the clashing of two hearts that were on a rollercoaster of feelings. He had slipped into a black long-sleeved shirt that brought out the color of his eyes and was comfortably warm in a cold, wet weather. And the pair of blue jeans he had on were a pair that Dean had bought for him about a year ago at JC Penny. Ditching his trench coat though was a crime because he had to settle on a black leather jacket that Sam had gifted him last Christmas. Now, as he passed by a store and considered himself in the glass, Castiel thought he looked damn good.

He hadn't crossed paths with Dean since. After returning to the house from a short walk earlier in the day, Castiel had found Dean passed out on the couch in front of the television. Then for most of the day he slept, almost as if his body and mind was so exhausted from all the drama over the past few days, he simply couldn't stay awake. Then Sam had miraculously disappeared too, leaving Cas to wander around the house and to peruse Jody's bookcase as he happened upon a selection of mystery novels by J.D Robb. Then, after sitting down with one, Castiel had spent the rest of the day immersed in the plot.

7:25 and there he was seated at the table, checking his watch every minute and then returning his stare outside the glass window to his right. There was no sign of the Impala as yet. It had begun to rain again.

Cosmos was a rather modern club of sorts. With a darkened theme and secluded booths, he felt somewhat even more nervous now that the evident confined space would present an opportunity for a lot of thoughts to unravel between them. Not sexual. No. He wasn't prepared to imagine the two of them seducing each other in a public space.

The music was low and upbeat and the tinkle of cutlery and glasses all around him seemed to fester the anxious feeling even more as he waited. Maybe Dean had changed his mind. Maybe he didn't want to come because he had given up on them. Maybe Dean had grown too frustrated from all of this and he had decided to stay away.

Dean, however, had already pulled up, locked the car and was heading into the club without Castiel even noticing. And when he stepped into the darkened interior, he immediately found it rather strange that Cas would suggest a place like that for their first date. The guy was more of a café type. He hated shadowed places and he certainly didn't like confined spaces. So as his eyes scanned the booths, Dean realized that something was really off about all of this and as he pinpointed the side of Cas' face, the pieces started to fit together.

Sam.

But then even as he was slowly becoming upset with his brother for setting him up on a date, Dean took one look at Cas' appearance and freaked the hell out. Not in a bad way, but in a knees going weak, heart racing, eyes goggling kind of way. Because the guy looked so damn amazing, he was breathless. This was going to be totally difficult.

Dean was speechless at first when he realized that black looked so damn good on Cas. And his hair was ruffled and so damn sexy, Dean weakly settled into the chair opposite the love of his life and tried to at least smile in greeting.

"You look very…handsome as always," Cas smiled back. His hands upon the table were nervously rolling up a square of tissue. "Denim looks good on you."

"Thank you…" Dean gestured at the other man, "don't look so bad yourself. You're…wow. I…" laughing nervously, Dean felt the back of his neck and wondered if he could really survive a date with Cas.

"At a loss for words?"

"More like I think my lungs don't exist anymore," Dean was staring and he couldn't help it. "Cas, you're…I need a drink." He weakly signaled the waitress who arrived pronto and after ordering two drinks for them; a cocktail and a shot of whisky, Dean settled back into the booth, trying to gather himself together.

"When I got the text message, I was somewhat terrified," Cas moved aside the little yellow umbrella from his glass and studied the green content. "The idea of a date didn't spare me the anxiety."

"Tell me about it," Dean sighed. He drank some whisky and realized that if his view that evening for two hours or more tops would comprise mostly of blue eyes, ruffled hair and a good-looking face, then there was nothing else in comparison. "I've got something to tell you and I don't know how you'll react to it."

"If you're going to tell me that you're giving up on us, then please don't, Dean," Cas provided in a wounded tone. "I promise you that everything will get better. All we need to do is consistently try."

"Cas, one minute at a time," Dean frowned. "And I'm not prepared to give up. All I need is for us to figure this out together without breaking each other further. You know how constipated I am with my feelings. I'm really trying here."

"I know, Dean," Cas sipped his cocktail and made a face. "What is this? It tastes like something from hell."

Laughing, the other man's eyes glinted with mischievousness. "Sounds like you've had a taste of hell. In what way I might or might not want to know. Anyway, this whole thing here," he gestured around them, his green eyes settling on blue ones, "we were literally setup and my bets are on Sam all the way."

For a few seconds, Cas merely considered him with a confused look. "But how would he…"

"Lemme guess," Dean cleared his throat, "you got my text messages when Sam and I were out on the road?"

"Yes," Cas nodded slowly, still not convinced.

"He asked to use my phone to calculate something when we were on the road," Dean provided with a small smile. "Geez, he was texting you the _whole_ time and I had no idea."

"But I had my phone with me all the time," Cas thought about it and then he sighed as recollections fitted the pieces together. "Oh no, I fell asleep around midday. He could have taken it out of my coat pocket."

"Exactly!" Dean was now totally convinced. Reaching for the bottle of Jamestown Whisky since he had ordered the whole thing because of his anxiety, he poured some and sipped.

"Dean, go easy on that," Cas sent him a worried look. "I need you sober enough for us to have the most memorable first date."

"Now we're talking," the hunter's cheeks flushed as he pushed the bottle away and settled on gazing at the other man. Nothing else in the world would look so good. Not even pie or cake. "So um," Dean rested both arms on the table and tried to show a composed face. "About last night…I wasn't really stable. I'm still not okay. And how I feel is…" he decided to take things slow, to formulate his feelings into words, "I feel like every time we get close, like this, then something happens to us. When I joked about the backseat of Baby I didn't mean that –"

"Dean," Cas interrupted, realizing that if they continued down that path, then a few tears would be shed. "After we talked last night and I voiced my fears, I believe that we are on the same page now. Can we please stay away from addressing the past and focus on what we have right here?"

Swallowing hard, and feeling a little disappointed in himself for dwelling on the hurtful memories, Dean nodded. "Um, okay. So…what should we talk about then?"

Did he realize how fantastic he was? How handsome and adorable he could be at the same time? "Really?" Cas smiled at him. "We have known each other for a little over ten years now. We've been through so much. And you are drawing blanks?"

"Come on," Dean laughed nervously as he collected his glass and took a sip, "this is different."

"Why is it different? Is it because we're in love with each other and we are aware of it now?" Cas asked, studying the other man's awkward demeanor. "Dean, we've been best friends for a long time. We still are best friends. Do you remember how you used to talk to me about anything? Your favorite songs, or…your favorite movie. The first book you read. The reason why you hate moths. Lots of things. And now you've seemed to forget that we were so close before."

"I didn't forget," Dean said softly. "It's awkward for me because I never figured out my feelings for you before you walked out. I never like sat in a corner and thought about it too much. How I felt was always on the back burner until the next hunt came along and I got distracted. But then when I started allowing myself to feel…" Their eyes met, "I couldn't keep thinking about you as my best friend anymore. I keep thinking about you as so much more. Our future, for example. Like where do we go after this? When you asked me if I'd like to be your boyfriend, I froze up because when I dream at night, I dream about things that are bigger than being a…boyfriend."

"Dean, what are you trying to say to me?" Cas held his breath as butterflies flitted around in his chest.

"You're going to make me say it," Dean sighed and wiped his face with a square of tissue. He was beginning to sweat and the A.C was turned up high already. "Damn you, Cas," he said smiling and blushing at the same time. "Damn you for coming into my life and changing me for the better. Damn you for…making me into this mushy person who cries a lot and dreams a lot and listens to Taylor Swift songs whilst you…" he considered Cas and licked his lips, chest heaving. "You look like you're holding it together."

"I'm not," Cas croaked, his fingers reaching for the tissue. "I might appear composed but I've cried too. Maybe I had my breakdown a long time ago over loving you. Maybe when I first realized what my feelings meant was when I walked into that barn with Uriel ages ago and I felt the first wave of jealousy when Anna looked at you with complete adoration. Do you remember when I disappeared for a long time after I was expelled from my vessel?"

Dean thought about the precise moment. "When Jimmy came back and then you told me that you didn't take orders from me anymore?"

"Yes," Castiel nodded. He tried the cocktail again and inhaled deeply. "I was pulled back into Heaven to be disciplined because of my feelings for you."

"What?" Dean was stunned. Clearly, he had missed the most important truths. "So they did send you back to Bible School."

"They…" Castiel sighed, "Dean, they placed me in a room with nothing but white walls and a copy of the Bible. And I had to reflect on my purpose as an angel. I was told to give up my feelings for you, or else I wouldn't be able to come back down on earth."

"And oh did you fool them," Dean found Cas' story so admirable. He was damn pleased. "You rebelled because of me. You always did."

"And now I'm completely cut off from Heaven because I'm pursuing my love for you on a deeper level. I suppose that taking my grace away slowly is them trying to mock me. Sometimes I can hear whispers from the rest of angels. They're disappointed in me but then that's not something new."

"I'm sorry, Cas," Dean frowned. "I know that being an angel was what you did best."

"No, Dean," Cas provided in a softer tone, "the only thing I excelled in was loving and protecting you at all costs. And if I must continue doing that without being an angel, then I don't care. Why are you so against the idea of being my boyfriend?"

Green eyes widened. Dean reached for his whisky and drank heartily before replying. Damn, Cas didn't waste time. He never ever seemed to forget things. "I'm not against it. Like I said before, I see a bigger picture."

"Go on," Cas pleaded, his blue eyes taking on a mellow look.

For a while, Dean merely gazed back and wondered how in the world he had become so lucky. If he thought about it long enough, at no time did he ever believe that Castiel of all people would consider him as a love interest. No way. Not when Castiel was so fucking gorgeous and could literally choose anyone else. But instead, as he considered the other man's handsome face and beautiful eyes, he realized that maybe he did deserve love.

"Look, I see us getting married, okay?" Dean jumped the gun and braved it all. "And stop looking at me like that, Cas. I swear, you're making me feel like a teenage girl."

"Just because you have feelings," Castiel said with a small smile, "it doesn't mean that something is wrong with you. Nor is something wrong with you expressing how you feel. Dean, above everyone else in your life, I'd like us to freely talk about things like that with each other. I want you to tell me everything. And by the way, I like the idea of marrying you. I like it a lot."

"Really, Cas?" Dean's voice broke as he stared in disbelief at the other man. "You'd honestly…marry me if I ask you to?"

"Please don't ask me now," Cas begged. "I mean…we're only on our first date…"

Dean immediately snorted, then he laughed because of the other man's honesty. "Okay, I wouldn't. I didn't bring the ring with me anyway."

Blue eyes widened. "You have a ring? Dean!"

"Maybe I do have a ring," Dean shrugged, avoiding eye contact as he picked up the menu and scrolled through it. He was blushing. He could feel the heat covering his face. "What should we order?"


	12. Blissful

**A/N - to my huggy bear, hope this makes you feel better.**

* * *

Love always could be subdivided into so many things: families loved each other. Friends did. Most of all best friends. And then there were the foolish ones who decided that they wanted something so much more than just a connection of trust and belonging. The ones who believed that they could make the best out of love, and they could try to grow even closer.

Maybe desire could be communicated through a look. Maybe Castiel had no idea what the hell he was telling Dean through his prolonged gazing. But Dean felt like instead of misjudging the situation, he should perhaps take a step back and breathe. Instead of trying to jump to conclusions, maybe he should focus on eating his burger and not anything else.

But then he watched Castiel use a knife and fork to consume his steak. The way his fingers moved so gracefully as he practically made no sound whilst eating. And then when he occasionally licked his lips, Dean literally felt like he was craving something so much. Something deeper. He didn't want to address it, but dammit, he was a man and he had needs and it had been a long time since he had been intimate with anyone.

Fuck, since Cas died the last time, over a year ago, he really hadn't slept with anyone except his feelings. He used to think that a hunt would be enough. And it was for a long time. He didn't really go to bars anymore and picked up women. He managed just fine until he started to think about Cas in so many different ways. It was embarrassing. Because Cas always wore too much clothes so Dean found that fantasizing about what he looked like under them was expansive. And he was going crazy from dwelling on the two of them…

Hell, he suddenly lost his appetite, and realized that his pants were growing uncomfortably tight. And when Dean discovered the meaning of it all, he felt completely embarrassed. Cas was driving him insane. All these years he had buried his feelings deep down inside and now that everything was in the open, what to expect was so much more exciting than anything else.

"Dean," Cas was frowning at him from across the table. The silence had become quite unbearable. "Are you okay?"

He cleared his throat. "Yeah, I'm peachy. How about you?"

"Well you've suddenly gone quiet."

"Do you blame me?" Dean shrugged. "People tend to get speechless when they're faced with an amazing view."

Cas stopped chewing. His cheeks grew crimson. "Dean, you are phenomenal. Please eat. I like to watch you when you do."

"Geez," Dean shook his head, "he likes to watch me when I sleep, and now when I'm eating. I am so blessed."

Chuckling lightly, Cas rested his cutlery down gently and cleared his throat. "I've been thinking about what to get you for Christmas. I believe that I've found the perfect gift."

"Oh yeah?" Dean was curious now, chewing on his burger. You under the tree with nothing but a Christmas bow on would suffice. But then I can't get my heart's desire so quickly. "Give me a hint."

"Okay," Cas thought about it for a while, "it's fluffy and cute and –"

"Not a puppy, please!" the other man provided with widened eyes. Dammit, the bees. The guinea pigs. The hamsters. "Cas, come on. I spend all my time looking after Baby and our lives aren't exactly accommodating for a pet. We're on the road most of the time. I'm not saying that I don't like animals but I know for a fact that once I say yes to one puppy, there will be a lot more to come."

"Dean, it's not a puppy," Cas frowned. But Dean sounded so domestic. Almost as if they were already a couple and the idea of welcoming a pet into their lives wasn't quite going to cut it.

"Then not a kitten either."

"It's not a…" Cas' eyes fluttered close. "I give up."

"No animals, Cas," Dean warned.

"Forget it."

"Yeah, forget it."

They both ate in silence for a while until their eyes met and after trying as hard as he could, Dean burst out laughing. Cas followed afterwards. And it felt so damn good to laugh. To give in to humor when for a long time both of them had been so tensed up. Dean was slowly beginning to remember the good old days. And although he missed those days, Cas had been right. They still had those memories and they were still good friends above all.

"Hey, so this might sound really weird," Dean tried hard to swallow down the dark feeling that constantly threatened to consume him like the night before, "but for a long time, I thought you were junkless."

Cas seemed confused. Junkless? "What does that even mean?"

"You know," Dean swallowed some whisky and gestured below his belt, "I thought angels didn't have any private parts."

"So what exactly happened to our vessel's private parts, Dean?" Cas wanted to know with a frown. Maybe the alcohol was clouding the other man's mind but junkless? "Did we magically make those organs disappear?"

"I don't know, okay?" Dean shrugged and tried to hide a laugh behind his napkin. "Like maybe I thought that when you possessed a vessel, you couldn't feel down there. Because you don't use the washroom, do you?"

"Well I do now but –"

"I mean before," Dean said softly, "you became human because of me. So I thought," he cleared his throat as Cas' blue eyes grew warmer from the mention of love, "that when it came to sex, you couldn't feel anything."

"But you had sex with Anna," Cas said in flat tone as he avoided eye contact and chewed on his steak. "And everything was functioning just fine with her vessel."

Dean, of course, could only stare. Completely at a loss for words. And obviously he felt dumb. Geez, how could he have forgotten Anna? Over the years he stupidly assumed that Castiel couldn't quite feel certain things. But now, it became quite evident that perhaps…

And now after allowing his mouth the liberty to run ahead of his brain, he felt stupid.

"Cas, shit, I wasn't thinking," Dean tried with an apologetic look.

"That's fine," Cas offered a small smile. "All in good humor. Your complexion isn't as pale as it was before. That's a good thing. Maybe we should thank Sam for setting us up on a date, don't you think?"

"I'm not thanking him," Dean seemed offended. "He doesn't have the right to meddle in my private life like this."

"Regardless," Cas sent him a cautious look, "Sam had good intentions. He always does. Clean your plate. There are hungry children in Syria who have not a morsel to eat."

His simplicity in pushing out such random thoughts was one of the things Dean always admired about Castiel. He was so impulsive.

"I feel like if I keep trying to bring up topics, then I'm just going to keep embarrassing myself," he said eventually. "So why don't you choose a topic?"

"Hmm," Castiel had finished his steak and mashed potatoes. He collected his glass of juice and took a generous sip. "I think that you were doing just fine. I love when you express yourself, Dean. It's not embarrassing to me."

"Yeah but the Anna part kind of…" Dean struggled to conceal his shame.

"It's not of import right now," Cas continued, never allowing his eyes to wander further than those green eyes. "You are now aware that I am not junkless and I have functioning private parts. Such information should thrill you. If it doesn't then…we do have a problem, Dean—"

"Cas…" Dean swallowed hard and tried to avoid the aching feeling deep down inside his soul, pouring out now into the uncomfortable feeling in his pants once again. He was so aroused, there was no turning back. And shifting in his seat, the only thing Dean could manage was trying to focus on anything else but making love to the man sitting opposite him.

For a while they sat in silence, and whilst Dean tried to avoid Cas' eyes, Cas kept on looking at him without backing down. It reached a point where Dean honestly thought that Cas was trying to get a rise out of him. Like he was deliberately trying to suggest so much more through his words. But then assuming those things was quite dangerous. He couldn't allow his assumptions to cloud his judgment.

"Ready to go?" Dean asked after a full fifteen minutes had passed by without any kind of conversation between the two of them,

"Have you grown tired of me already?" Cas asked boldly.

"No," Dean collected his phone and keys from the table. "I was kind of hoping that I could take you for a drive. There's this place that I found that has a fantastic view. You're going to love it. And to be honest, this place is kind of getting to me. It's too dark and I'm feeling claustrophobic."

"Likewise," Castiel admitted as he smoothly rose up and smiled at Dean.

When they hopped into the car though, the silence continued and it was becoming so unbearable, that Dean felt like he was doing all the wrong things again. Never before had he ever been so awkward with someone even on a first date. Women were usually chatty and flirty. He felt comfortable with them. But Cas was completely different. He held himself together in ways Dean really admired. He could say the weirdest things at the weirdest moments.

"The car smells like pie," Cas shifted around in his seat, "and strangely like apples."

"I had pie earlier," Dean provided as he focused on the road since the weather had darkened the skies, "and Sam had an apple tart."

"Sam ate a pastry?" Cas was stunned.

"Right?" Dean glanced at the other man with disbelief in his eyes too. "Sam never eats pastries. I was freaking shocked when he asked me to get him one of those. The dude ate the entire thing like if apple tarts were going out of season."

"Maybe today is his cheat day."

"Sam never has those," Dean shook his head and lowered the volume of the music. Weirdly, the mixtape was still in the deck. His brother had teased the hell out of him during their morning outing. "It's 24/7 healthy eating for him. I guess maybe he was feeling too good about himself today. He even bought a new shirt. And it wasn't plaid."

"Very weird," Cas squinted up at the sky and hugged himself. He didn't really envy his sisters and brothers anymore. Being up in Heaven with so much limitations to their existence. When God's creation was so remarkable like Dean. How could anyone choose to live a life without experiencing feelings and desires? How could he ever survive without the man sitting beside him?

"You cold?" Dean noticed eventually.

"A bit. As I become more human, there are certain things that are quite uncomfortable."

"Tell me about it," the hunter muttered as he shrugged off his jacket whilst keeping one hand on the wheel and eyes on the road. "Here, take mine."

"Dean, no I can't," Cas frowned. "What happens if you feel cold?"

"Right now, I don't mind feeling cold at all," Dean boldly confessed, keeping his reasons to himself.

When Cas collected the jacket and slipped it on, he immediately inhaled the fresh scent of Irish Spring; Dean's scent. Mixed with his aftershave and a hint of vanilla shampoo. And his mind swirled around a little. Suddenly he didn't feel cold anymore but…safe. Like Dean's smell sheltered him and was trying to assure him that everything would be okay. Everything would work out between them. And he didn't have to constantly worry about the silence or the broken pieces between them.

The car slowed down, Dean killed the engine and then he opened his door and hopped out. Cas remained where he was for a while though, trying to savor the actuality of being somewhere with Dean. Of knowing that they were on their first date, and were properly courting each other. Of realizing that these moments were so precious and contained so much value to both of them.

His eyes scanned their serene surroundings slowly. The area was decorated with strings of yellow lights crisscrossing around wooden poles and not too far away, he spied a bar bearing the name 'Skyview'. But even before he could ascertain where they were, Dean had promptly arrived at his door and was pulling it open with a blushing smile plastered on his handsome face.

"Sir," he gestured for Cas to exit the car, "if you could come this way with me."

Being swept off his feet was quite an understatement at that point because he never expected Dean to brush aside all awkwardness and present the purest form of courting.

Cas got out slowly and smiled from ear to ear. "Quite the gentleman you are, Dean Winchester. Lending me your coat. Opening the door for me."

"Only the best for the King of my heart," the other man provided, leading Cas to the rear of the car. The wind swept up their hair and Dean couldn't stop staring. He really couldn't. Not when Cas looked so damn hot and completely adorable wrapped in his coat. Not when his hair permanently appeared as if he had quite a busy afternoon when truthfully, Dean's mind was swirling with mischievous ideas on how to contribute.

They were progressing just fine for the evening. He liked the raw feeling of making impulsive decisions like bringing the other man out here. And when he leapt without thinking, Dean felt really high from the unexpected. He felt a rush like running into a hunt, brandishing weapons and ready to fight. And now, his only weapon was his heart. Using it to the best of his ability was proving to be fruitful thus far. The distant and pleased look that washed over Castiel's face was evidence enough to suggest that maybe, just maybe, Dean Winchester could still sweep him off his feet in a good way.

"Dean, this is…" Cas couldn't peel his eyes away from the millions of lights clustered below the high-rise cliff they were standing on. His shoes crunched gravel that eventually mixed with small stones. And there was a wooden concrete frontier about three feet high just in case one of them decided to wander closer to the edge (like Dean).

"I hope that what you're seeing isn't as breathtaking as when you look at me," Dean tried to be funny, wringing his hands and shifting from one boot to the other.

The string of words didn't go unnoticed as eyes as blue as the ocean during a sunrise captured emerald ones. "Nothing compares to you," Cas said softly, lifting cupped fingers to gently caress the hunter's jawline. "When I look at you, I see the most beautiful thing that could ever exist in this chaotic world."

"See when you talk to me like that," Dean shyly ducked his head whilst blushing, "I feel like the luckiest man in the world."

"No, I am lucky," Cas provided as his thumb savored the feel of the other man's slight stubble upon his soft cheek. "That's why I am most hated in Heaven. It is because they can never have what I have. They can never understand how lucky I ever was to have met someone like you."

"Stop," Dean's voice broke as he captured Cas soft fingers between his and held them like the most precious jewels ever. Their eyes connected and he couldn't stop drowning.

"Why?"

Although he was slowly trying to fight through the haze of his feelings, Dean's chest heaved and yet he understood that the question warranted an honest answer.

"Because you're making me feel more and more like I deserve this when I don't. Not really. Not when I've done so many bad things and I've made bad decisions. And the only right decision I've ever made is loving you and letting myself love you." Dean's breath caught in his throat when Cas' hand softly captured his neck. And then the weakest area below his right ear was touched so intimately, Dean sighed.

"You deserve to be loved," Cas said, his voice sounded unfamiliar. "Every inch of you. Every cell. Every breath you take. Every beat your heart makes. Please try to remember that."

"Cas," Dean inched closer, and although the wind was whipping the air into a frenzy, the heat generated from their feelings was growing. He wasn't uncomfortable anymore. What he felt was bliss. Slowly building up to a crescendo and he welcomed it because here he was, taking one minute at a time, making his own decisions and they weren't falling apart anymore.

"Can I hold you?" Cas asked so simply, his blue eyes reminiscent of waves lapping onto the shore during a beautiful afternoon. Gently, he eased his hand further down Dean's right shoulder and squeezed. "I need to feel you. I really do. If I can't, then I might never stop dreaming."

A small smile played on Dean's face. "You don't have to ask, Cas," he said softly, wrapping his hand smoothly around the other man's hip and under the feel of his leather jacket.

"Dean.." A mewling sound escaped from between Cas' lips.

"Bring it in," the hunter chuckled lightly as he wound both his arms around the other man and the inches immediately disappeared.

Slowly, Dean began to drown completely in the blissful feel of Cas buried within his comforting arms. Of how he was a few inches shorter and the simple brush of his lips met Cas' warm creased forehead. He knew that loving him could guarantee so much more than he ever dreamed of. But Dean never really expected how Cas fitted perfectly into him, like they were meant for each other. Like they belonged together and nothing else mattered.

Cas buried his face into the crook of Dean's shoulder and sighed deeply. Irish Spring. Security. Home. He felt like he finally belonged. And he was held so gently, his mind turned upside down and couldn't settle. Not when he finally could feel all of Dean. Of how alive and on fire he was because of simply holding him so close. Of how breathless he was becoming as his chest heaved and his lips parted upon Cas' forehead. Kissing and trembling from unfolding. From letting go of all his dark thoughts and doubts. Of trying to settle but wavering not too far from insanity. And most of all, Cas felt how Dean's body responded to his nearness. He was hard in his pants, undoubtedly. And just that simple realization seemed to melt Cas' body even further.

"Dammit, you're killing me," Dean whispered as he maneuvered the other man around on the spot so that Cas was suddenly sandwiched between the trunk of the car and himself. And after falling into the moment, Dean finally brushed his parted lips upon soft ones.

Slowly at first, as his body built up a wave like a volcano. They teased each other for a few seconds. Going in for soft, tentative pecks and pulling back. Trying to taste each other as their eyes grew wider and hazier from desire. Even the coldness around them could never alter the heat rising up from their bodies pressed together. Because with every taste of Cas' lips, they remained joined at the hips and Dean's knees were growing weaker and weaker.

Certain of himself though, Cas reached up and curling his fingers behind Dean's ears.

"Take what you deserve," he croaked, feeling the other man straining within his jeans. "Kiss me until I can't—"

When Dean finally crushed their lips together though, a low moan was unearthed from within Cas. And he instantly forgot that anything else existed. All the wars fought. Heaven and hell. Angels and demons. The burning grief of losing Jack. Of feeling guilty because of Mary's demise. All of it disappeared and was replaced by the taste of Dean's lips; like whisky and fire. Dean lifted him up and grinded their bodies together gingerly as they deepened the kiss. Almost as if he wanted to take all he could manage but then just for a few seconds, he broke the kiss and breathed heavily into Cas' parted lips. And as he gazed into blue eyes that were now swirling in a storm of desire, green ones were on fire.

"Dean," Cas breathed, holding onto the hunter's shoulders and realizing that the absence of Dean's lips felt like the coldest winter. Like his lifeline had been limited all of a sudden. Because the taste of something so perfect needed to be savored for as long as possible.

"I want you…so much," Dean said hoarsely and meant it. Moving in again and taking Cas' bottom lip between his as he sucked and pulled and tried to pressed into the other man's body. Feeling how hard Cas had grown in his pants was something Dean never ever dreamt of experiencing. Because it finally proved to him further that free will did exist. That he could fall in love and kiss the person he loved the most until his body responded and there was nothing in the world that prepared him for that feeling.

What they had guiltily initiated wasn't because of fate. Wasn't because some celestial being had written a damn story about them. No. This was a little too impulsive and tremendously real to describe in detail on a page. Cas was real. He could feel him, how his heart hammered away behind that damn sexy black shirt. And no matter what, no one could convince Dean that he couldn't have the power to choose what to do with his damn life.

Over and over again, he would choose this.

Dean kept on kissing Cas like he had been cheated for so many years. Like he was hungry for every second afterwards and like they never could ever part again. Never before in his life had he ever experienced so much bliss from kissing someone. From wanting them so damn much more than what he could have in that moment. And he wanted more than a kiss. God, he wanted Cas so bad that their bodies grinding together wasn't enough. And the more he kissed him deeper and deeper, the harder it was for Dean to stay in the moment. Because he couldn't rush things.

He couldn't take everything all at once. He couldn't rip away the element of anticipation that had built up for years between them. Just when Dean had finally allowed his body to embrace how aroused he could become from another man's nearness, he felt like they needed to slow down. For Cas' sake at least because he didn't want to hurt him at all. Not when they were so vulnerable and Cas was searching his eyes for all the answers. So even though he was so hard inside his jeans and the inability to allow himself any kind of release was not possible, Dean pulled away.

Probably it was surprising to Cas but his blue eyes merely reflected barely a flicker of disbelief and a lot of love. And when the hunter inched away whilst still keeping his arms wrapped around Cas' neck, the energy between them still was on fire from the lingering sensation of having finally crossed that line. Of finally breaking the tension by just letting go.

"That was…" Dean was still breathless. He loathed the distance.

Cas, daring it all, went in for a simple peck on the lips. But Dean couldn't deny him that. They had crossed the line between simplicity and being insanely desirous of each other's taste. That one, innocent peck turned into a deeper kiss almost as if their souls were trying to taste each other's flaws and the depth of their love.

"That was actually my…" Cas tried to catch his breath, "…first real kiss. Since I've been on earth. And it was far more than I ever dreamt it could feel like."

"I'm a damn good kisser," Dean shrugged with a small smile.

"That you are," Cas fondly caressed the other man's face. "Everything about you, Dean; your smell, how you taste. All of you cannot be nothing short of extraordinary. If you only knew the depth of my love for you, then I'm afraid that your ego would double in size."

"Keep talking like that and I'll start taking off your clothes," Dean teased as he leaned in and captured Cas' lips into another kiss. They both smiled.

"I don't think we could make love out here," Cas boldly announced after pulling away a little. He gazed into emerald eyes. "It's too dark and I hate shadows. Dean, I'm not a friend of the darkness. Do you remember that?"

He actually laughed. Like really laughed as tears formed in his eyes. Dean could never grow tired of Cas. "I am so in love with you, you're so adorable," he said, wiping his eyes. "Dammit. Every single thing that comes out of your mouth is just…adorable."

"Are we a couple now?" Cas stared at him with eyes as wide as saucers. "We've kissed. Our bodies connected quite…desirously. Why are you laughing?"

Dean buried his face into the other man's neck and chuckled. Eventually, he ended up hugging him. "We're a couple, Cas," he said as his voice broke and their eyes met again. "If that's what you want."

"So what should I refer to you as then?" Cas still stared at him. "If Sam or Jody or Claire asks, what should I tell them?"

"Tell them that we're together," Dean simply said as he pulled away and collected the keys from his jeans pocket. "That's all they really want to know. Come on, let's head back home. It's getting late." Rounding the car, he went to the driver's side.

"But Dean, we need a term," Cas moved around to the other door. Their eyes met.

Dean sighed. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he thought about it for a while. "How about…soul mates?" he suggested. "Look, just…if the time comes when you need to introduce me to anyone, you can say that I'm your boyfriend. And Cas," he smiled. "Stop overthinking labels. None of it matters. We know what we are to each other. You don't have to call me anything. I'm just…yours, okay?"

"Okay, my love," Cas tried, their eyes still connected.

Swallowing hard, Dean blinked. "Yeah you just sounded so fucking adorable, I want to kiss you again."

"My love," Cas teased again with a smile as he pulled open the door.

Dean on the other hand licked his lips. "Keep that up and I'll jump you. I swear." Yanking the door open, he climbed in and fired up the engine.

The evening had evidently contained the best moments shared between them in a very long time. When Dean refused to high five his brother on the way into the house, Sam considered the entire plan to be a success. Besides, judging from the soft glow on Castiel's cheeks, and his inability to stop smiling, the taller Winchester felt like he could actually hug himself a little more because of the progress the two had made. And obviously the date had been blissful. Whatever else occurred seemed to have left a permanent dust of color on his best friend's cheeks and neck as he stepped around Sam and shyly entered the house after Dean.

Maybe…just maybe…his brother and Cas had shared their first kiss.

"How romantic!" he clapped his hands in glee and beamed at the ceiling. And sinking into the softness of the swing set on the back porch, Sam awaited the night to fade into a comfortable silence that only contained his warming thoughts.

Cas really felt like he had literally become someone else. As he settled in front of the television with Jody and Alex, his mind was soaring above the clouds as warm rays of sunlight cascaded upon his soul. His heart leapt and bounded through the seconds and minutes like if nothing else mattered but to spend every single moment with Dean. Kissing him. Touching him. Tasting whisky. The warmth of his breath caressing Cas' face. The feel of his body so hot and on fire pressed against him.

How could anyone ever forget a moment like what he had experienced? Humans had a tendency of taking many things for granted but the expanse of love and learning to show the depth of one's affection was something he hadn't been exposed to in such magnitude. Cas felt overwhelmed. The tender way Dean held him in his strong arms felt like the best definition of home. The softness of his kisses and his honesty. His refusal to hold back anything between them as the night progressed. All of these things served as distractions from the movie on the television.

But Dean wasn't really sharing the same sentiments afterwards though. Not really. Well, the kiss was damn mind-blowing and then…Cas kept pulling him in for more and more as he seemed to crave Dean's touch and his taste. But to hold his composure whilst he was guiltily craving a release? Whilst the feel of Cas against him was so hot and wild and then Dean kept envisioning what the other man tasted like in every other place. Every single inch. None of those desirous thoughts did him any favors.

Instead, he was standing in the shower, eyes squeezed shut and as cold water cascaded onto his rigid form, Dean was literally in a state of agony. His body was wound up like a jack in the box and the only way out was to plead with his mind to calm down that one part of him that ached to be touched by Cas. Even the coldest temperature of water couldn't suffice. Not when he could still taste Cas on his lips, could still feel how damn hard he had been in his pants too. So why the hell was he in so much pain and torture whilst the other man merely moved through the motions as if everything else was peachy?

Pressing his forehead against the soft yellow tiled walls, Dean squeezed tears from between his eyelids. It had been a damn long time since he had been in this kind of dilemma. Since he had craved someone so much that the very thought of them drove him to this uncontrollable state. And now, he stood there feeling awful all over again as the water showered like rain onto his back and willing every ounce of energy from within, Dean began to slowly jerk himself off.

Building a crescendo wasn't difficult as he switched over to the warmer, and satisfying temperature of water. But he paced himself nevertheless. He was such a mess; Dean began to quickly hate himself for losing control. For feeling the brutal waves of how love could escalate into maddening passion and lust and gradually, his tears joined the shower of water gushing into his hands. And he kept on going. Over and over again without noticeably becoming aware of the creak of the bathroom door. Or the click of the lock.

When he finally pelted himself over the edge as waves of pleasure coursed through his entire body, Dean cried out hoarsely and had to quickly muffle the embarrassing sounds by biting his arms. The feeling of release wasn't relieving but still tinged with pain. Of letting go over and over again until he was so weak and really felt like he could collapse on the tiled floors. And even though they were perhaps two feet apart, Cas' feet were rooted to the soft blue mat by the sink.

Toothbrush in hand, he stared in wild shock at Dean's silhouette, chest still heaving against the wall and he stopped breathing. Then realizing that this was either a fight or flight situation, Cas quickly pulled himself together, weak in the knees and he slowly pulled open the door, the soft creak registering in Dean's mind still reeling from pleasure. And Cas left, feeling as if he had been exposed to something that was so overwhelming and frightening at the same time, his mind literally could not calm down.

**THOUGHTS?**


	13. Paranoia

As much as Dean tried to swallow the paranoia that constantly crept into his mind after the night before, the creak of the door still haunted him to the core. Because he could always feel Cas' presence. Over the years, that profound connection between them had grown considerably deeper. So, when they were merely inches apart, like an angel watching over him, Dean understood the meaning of body energy. He had felt that energy and even though his mind was screaming doubts, he remembered coming out of the shower and discovering that Cas' yellow toothbrush was missing.

And that one bit of evidence was enough to cement his belief that every shameful second spent in the shower had been witnessed by Cas. How long he had been standing outside the glass door, Dean couldn't determine exactly. But the mere fact that he hadn't been alone in one of his weakest moments, Dean felt so damn raw and embarrassed inside, he tried to overcompensate by acting as if everything was totally normal the next morning.

Sam packed their bags into the trunk of the car whilst slurping on a smoothie Jody had whipped up from cucumbers, tomatoes and peaches. Everything was going like clockwork. They bid their farewells with warm hugs. Claire held onto Cas a little too longer than any other time before. Alex wandered over to confide in him that Donna and Jody were on the mend and then he climbed into the driver's side, holding his breath as Cas jumped into the backseat.

His brother made a face. Obviously. But when he was simply told that switching up seats for the long ride home allowed him more time to read and sleep, Sam obliged to Cas. He shrugged, glanced at Dean and after there were no objections, the taller Winchester fitted his lanky frame into the front seat and barefacedly pushed in the damn mixtape.

"Come on!" Dean lamented on and on at Sam, objecting to drowning in feelings and how a good roll of ACDC or Led would refresh his mind. But Sam refused to eject the cassette. And so for most of the journey, like a good hour into the ride, there was no kind of conversation because Dean was terribly confused, conflicted, embarrassed and angry and Sam was contented, peaceful and happy.

Cas on the other hand was pensive and had seated himself directly behind Dean's seat just to avoid the meeting of their eyes. The initiation of any kind of contact between them felt daunting because he simply was uncertain about how to broach the topic. About how to come right out and admit that he had shamefully witnessed something reminiscent of the purest kind of desire and passion and release. And over and over again as Castiel pondered on that particular moment, he really began to understand how complex the chemistry and bond between humans could become.

Dean was evidently severely physically attracted to him. And his body was also very responsive to Dean's advances the night before. But he hadn't suffered in agony like the other man. He hadn't returned to the house with an unbearable ache for release. And as Castiel thought about it constantly, he began to feel considerably alien to the machinations of love and passion.

"So get this," Sam suddenly piped up as the newspapers rustled in his lap, "it appears as if there has literally been no mishaps as of late. I'm talking about a span of three weeks. No murders that come off as weird. No eerie disappearances. Nothing," he reached up and tossed back those silky locks of his. "Seems like everything is just fine."

"Just before the freaking ball drops," Dean commented, detesting the decision made by Cas to sit behind him which pretty much meant that he had seriously screwed up again.

"Yeah but we've had periods before when nothing happened for weeks," Sam considered his brother with a frown. "But this time is different. I mean, after we had a massive swarm of restless souls on earth? Then…God is somewhere doing who the heck knows what. And all we can do is sit down and wait."

"I hate waiting too, Sam," Dean admitted as Taylor Swift's 'Lover' started to play, "but you've got to admit, we needed this break. If not you, at least I did. And so did Cas. Right Cas?" those emerald eyes swerved a little to the right to seek out blue ones.

Cas was fast asleep in the backseat, head lolled sideways as he hugged himself into the warmth of his trench coat. Damn he smelled so good last night, Dean thought guiltily as Sam settled down with a small smile. Cas' scent was so freaking intoxicating; he had been trying to dissect each significant scent since they had kissed and realized that nothing about the way Cas tasted or smelled seemed human at all except for the slight musk of sweat. And even his sweat was the purest kind of bliss.

There had been something kind of natural about it though. Almost as if Cas' scent was reminiscent of a warm cup of cinnamon tea intermingled with drops of honey and a tinge of oranges. And maybe he had been falling prey to Sam's healthy habits by picking a range of teas that were supposed to work wonders for the body. But when he remembered the kiss and the taste of Cas' skin that still lingered in his racing mind, Dean felt like he could not wait for the next moment when they would come together again.

Now though, when he kept dreaming of the next time, they could steal a kiss, Dean's mind became blocked by last night's memories. He ended up swallowing his freaking anticipation and turning his attention towards the road. Hating that he had physical needs that were totally embarrassing. Hating that he literally couldn't keep it in his pants. What the hell was happening to him? Was he suddenly turning into a freaking horny sixteen-year-old dude who craved sex around every corner?

Dean, stop it, that majestic voice of wisdom suddenly consumed his brain. Stop it. You're human. You have needs. It's been so damn long since you've been in love with Cas, your body was always trying to hammer you with the truth. But you never really paused to feel. To know. To understand. Instead, you pushed all the longing and curiosity beneath the surface. And now, you're basically burning up for more.

"The two of you good?" Sam asked in a hushed voice after ensuring that Cas was still asleep.

Dean cleared his throat. Another chick-flick moment loading… "We're good."

"Look, about the date –"

"You had good intentions," Dean said in a tone that didn't hint any kind of anger. "Just…" he sighed, squeezing the steering wheel a little, "don't interfere when I don't ask you to, okay?"

Sam, after holding his breath, slowly nodded. "Okay," he said with an apologetic smile. "Just as long as you know that you can ask me for help. Whenever you want."

"This is all on me," Dean reassured him. "I'm the one who screwed up so I'm the one who needs to work my ass off to fix it. And maybe we're still…shaky, but it'll take time."

"It will," Sam was adoring the enthusiasm. "Dean and look, if you feel like you need to talk. About anything, just let me know. And I mean anything. I'm your brother. We've been through a lot. Frankly, only restricted topic might be what the two of you do without your clothes on. And for more information on that, you can go straight to the internet and –"

"Jesus, Sam," Dean frowned deeply, "I'm not going to watch gay porn to widen my freaking knowledge."

"Not like you haven't before," Sam sat back, arms folded and smiled at the road.

"Now you're beginning to piss me off," the older Winchester provided. "Really? When did I ever –"

"Oh come on!" Sam turned to his brother and stared in disbelief. "Do you want to go there? Do you remember after you came back from Purgatory and I caught you –"

"Shut up," Dean interrupted, growing pink in the face. He swallowed hard and checked the rearview mirror. Cas was still buried deep within the layers of sleep. "Shut your face, Sam. Wipe that damn memory out of your brain forever. You saw nothing."

"I mean bondage and whips and fluffy handcuffs," Sam continued, teasing willingly. "If you wanted that you should have jumped Cas like right after he pulled you out of hell. Because back then he was a damn warrior who would have –"

Dean reached over and turned up the music so loud, Cas groaned in his sleep. Only for a few seconds though did he allow the annoyance. Just to shut his brother up. Sam was beaming.

"Don't you have a podcast to listen to?" the older Winchester scowled at the road. "Plug up your ears and spare me the distractions."

For twenty minutes, neither of them said a word and the soft tunes of the mixtape played on and on until Dean flipped the tracks to the beginning and savored the selection once more. Which pretty much meant that his brother kept sending him heart eyes, itching to contribute to Dean's obvious state of swimming in blissful love. Cas, however, was completely knocked out for an hour and when he did stir, the former angel's adorable sleepy face in the rearview mirror almost caused Dean to run into the side of the road.

"I heard angry voices," Cas blinked slowly. His hair was windswept. "Were the two of you arguing? Or did I dream that?"

"Welcome back, huggy bear," Dean smiled warmly at him when their eyes connected. He also wanted to prevent his brother from bringing up any kind of embarrassing conversations they had engaged in.

"I can never understand how you could sleep so comfortably sitting down," Sam seemed to like the idea of diverting the conversation. "Makes my neck hurt like a bitch."

"I find that placing my body in a horizontal position to achieve the depths of sleep is quite…uncomfortable," Cas squinted at Sam in the rearview mirror.

The younger Winchester bit his lips. He couldn't help himself. "So, you're saying that your favorite position is obviously standing or sitting down."

"Yes," Cas nodded innocently.

"Sam, I swear," Dean gripped the steering wheel too tightly, "if you're looking for me to kick your ass, then I promise you that you'll never see it coming."

"What did I do?" Sam pretended to appear innocent. He shrugged. "We're talking about how Cas sleeps. Maybe you should take notes since the two of you will be sharing the same bed in the future."

"Are we talking about sex?" Cas offered a confused look that was the cutest thing ever to be witnessed by emerald eyes.

"You know what?" the older Winchester made an abrupt turn into a gas station. "Pit stop. Baby needs some gas and I need a cup of coffee. Extra caffeine."

After he had safely parked the car under the shade of a maple trees, he killed the engine and sprang out. Leave it to his brother to tease the hell out of every awkward situation. Now, after trying so damn hard to forget what had occurred the night before, Dean was guiltily remembering his embarrassing episode in the shower. Of not knowing how to approach the situation but realizing that there was only one way out. And he wasn't prepared to place Cas in that kind of situation. Not when the guy was trying so hard to take one step at a time because he hadn't done anything like this before.

When Dean returned to the car with a cup of coffee in hand, pie and a cinnamon roll for Cas, Sam was nowhere in sight. Obviously, the tall mischievous form of his brother had ventured off into the washroom, probably to lather his damn hair in Loreal products. Nevertheless, his absence posed a problem, an awkward one. And that was the evident pools of blue eyes that greeted him from the back seat.

"Figured you would be hungry," Dean could literally feel his neck growing warmer from a blush as he handed over the snack. Their fingers brushed, and it was like feeling the effects of an intoxicating drug. Of longing for the rush. "You good?" he smiled at his blueberry pie and attacked it with a fork.

The sound of the paper bag rustling in the backseat served as a reply. Then after Cas took a willing bite, he said, "yes."

They savored their snacks in silence as the heat pummeled the world around them. And with a light wind blowing from the east, still Dean felt like his body would not simmer down to a comfortable temperature. Because he was slowly beginning to grow paranoid again. Cas had stifled the initiation of his conversation with a one-word reply. Now, he could only sit in the front seat drowning in doubt and fear that the cracks between them would never ever heal.

"Is it considered normal if I broach the topic of sex whilst we're eating?" Cas suddenly asked, sitting forward with his arms resting on the top of the seat.

He was so close to Dean, the hunter's body sparked up with tiny bursts of pleasure. So they were going there. Well, the most he could do was welcome the conversation without holding his breath too much.

"Go ahead, Cas," he said, swallowing hard as he reached for the cup of lukewarm coffee. "What do you want to know?"

Two seconds ticked by and then Dean suddenly loathed his brother's absence. He wished more than ever that Sam would show up. That they didn't have to immerse themselves in this awkward topic. But then, Cas wasn't awkward about this at all. Instead, he seemed…eager to explore the conversation between them.

"How does sex work between us?" Cas asked without any kind of filter. "I've never been in a relationship before and I have no idea what to expect. But I need to know what are your terms."

"Cas, don't do that," Dean pleaded in a wounded tone. "It's not like we're in the movie Pretty Woman and I don't have…terms, okay? I'm just on the same page as you are. I'm clueless too."

"Then if we are on the same page," Cas didn't skip a beat, "why were you in so much pain last night, Dean?"

The ball had dropped. Dear Sam, we don't need another case to get my adrenaline pumping. We don't need some kind of freaking monster to chase. No. The only thing I'll be ever chasing is my damn heart that's literally running a thousand miles in front of me. And I can't catch it, Dean thought inaudibly. I can't catch it because every single time I believe in finding a stable place to stand on, Cas comes right out from under the rubble and breaks my mind apart.

"Cas…" the hunter's eyes fluttered close. They were really just diving in now. The weather was changing again. Soon they would be pummeled by a heavy rainfall.

"Dean, I heard you," Cas provided in wounded tone, "I thought that we trusted each other enough to discuss how we truly feel. But obviously you were holding back the truth from me. And the truth is that your physical needs are being strained considerably. We are a couple now. I would like you to trust me enough to talk about it so that I can help in any way I can."

"It's not that simple," Dean said in an uneven tone. He pinched the bridge of his nose and inhaled deeply. Then he let out a long sigh.

"Talk to me, Dean."

"Cas, you have no idea what this means to me."

"Then elaborate," Cas simply said, sparing all the innocence in the world to simply open himself honestly to the other man.

"Okay," and how the hell was he going to explain this? But he had to try. "So I reached a point last night where I just couldn't go further with you," Dean tried as his chest literally felt like all the cells would explode. "Because…it's not fair to jump the gun."

"You have needs," Cas tried in a softer tone. "And so do I."

"Yeah but obviously you have your needs under control and I don't," Dean struggled to confess. He felt so immature. So freaking weird. Reaching for the cup of coffee, he drained the last drop and stared out the window at a truck groaning under the weight of logs, crawling down the highway.

"Dean, you might think that I have my needs under control, but I don't," Cas confessed as he caught a whiff of Irish Spring and drowned in it. "Last night before we kissed, don't you remember me giving you permission to take all that you wanted from me?"

Shaking his head, Dean couldn't believe that he was such a damn mess, that the mere discussion of sex between them could literally reduce him to tears. He hated himself so much in that moment. But he loved how Cas weakened the man he had built himself up to be. He loved how Cas crawled under his walls and settled into the cracks comfortably. And maybe that honest feeling of comfort, of being so open with someone else was scaring the hell out of him.

"I'm not supposed to take all that I want just like that, Cas," he admitted guiltily. "I feel as if I don't deserve that much as yet. Not when we've just had our first kiss."

"So we should take things slow between us then," Cas wanted some more clarity. "One minute at a time. Is that what you're suggesting?"

"Sure," Dean shrugged and tried to get his breathing under control. "We can't do everything all at once."

"Why not?" Cas' allowed his thumb to move along Dean's perfect jawline. The soft tender feel of freshly shaven skin only contributed to his quickening pulse.

"Because…" the other man couldn't believe how bold Cas could be, "if we take all that we want from each other, then we might crash and burn sooner than later. And I can stand the pain of longing for you, I really can. But I really don't want you to feel as if I'm depriving you because I'm being selfish."

"Dean…" Cas lightly caressed the soft skin at the back of the hunter's neck. He raked his fingers fondly through brown tendrils. "I love you. All of you. But I hate when you're sad or in pain. And last night when I walked in there and witnessed what I did, I was so confused because I thought that you would have talked to me about the depth of your feelings. I thought that you would have at least suggested something more."

"Cas, I'm not the kind of guy who would ever push you into a situation just because I want what's best for me, okay?" Dean's voice was broken. "We're just starting out. I keep remembering your fear of me treating you like a one-night stand and I don't want us to jump into this without going slow first. We've been through so much crap recently, whatever the hell was going on with me physically was embarrassing to say the least."

"Your body craving to be touched by me is embarrassing?" Cas rested his cheek on the top of the seat and considered the side of Dean's face with a frown.

"No, I…" stammering and realizing that the depth of the subject was so much more than what he had bargained for, Dean sighed. "I didn't mean it like that. What I meant was, how I reacted wasn't something I'm pleased about. I'm supposed to be better than that. You kissed me and you didn't react the way I did."

"I did," Cas allowed his fingers to play with the ends of Dean's hair that met his blushing neck. "I sat in front of the television trying to concentrate on the movie when all I could feel was your hands on me."

"But you didn't reach…you know," Dean swallowed, "get…um, you know."

"Was I aroused?" Cas shrugged. "Yes, I was."

"Oh yeah?" Dean felt so relieved, as he yearned so much for just one simple touch from Cas.

"Is that so difficult to believe that I'm really attracted to you?" Cas frowned.

Dean sighed. "No, it's not that. I'm just curious about what was happening to you. Like, how did you feel?"

For a few seconds, Cas merely thought about it. Then he sighed too. "Like I had consumed some kind of a drug that was causing my body to feel sensitive in every area. And the more I thought about our kiss, I thought about your kisses extending beyond my lips."

Gulping down some coffee, the older Winchester licked his lips. ""Do you think that you could like…spare a few seconds to kiss me now?"

"Hmm," Cas seemed to ponder on the possibility as a smile played on his lips. "You did agree that we should take it slow. Two kisses in less than 24 hours?"

"Cas…" Dean pleaded. "I want to kiss you so bad right now."

Instead, what he managed to collect was the kind of earth-shattering neck kiss that would evidently leave a mark. The softest feel of Cas' warm lips upon his skin, brushing his pores with delicious warmth. Then the feel of his body trembling inside a wave of sinful bliss as Cas tilted his neck to the right and began to trail a path of deep, passionate kisses all the way to the end of his right shoulder blade

Dean was floating by the time his pleasure pooled into his gut. He was living on the edge, dangerously wild and still so sweet with innocence from the soft chuckle Cas allowed to escape onto his burning skin. The two of them were like young sweethearts, trying to savor each other for the first time and playfully doing so without regrets. It was amazing how beautiful foreplay was turning out to be with Cas. He seemed to be full of so many surprises, Dean realized that maybe he really couldn't ever anticipate the other man's advances. And that kind of feeling thrilled the living daylight out of him.

"Are you feeling better now?" Cas asked in that sexy gravelly voice that would forever tingle every single pore on his body. "Hmm?"

"More than ever," Dean managed to reply in a soft tone. "Where did you learn to kiss like that?" He felt the whisper of warm breath below his right ear and drowned in the possibility of falling into insanity. "Jesus, Cas."

"No one taught me. I'm just trying to capture every single inch of you. One minute at a time."

When Dean felt the soft feel of Cas sucking that tender region where his tilted neck met his shoulder, he ultimately decided that the other man promised to be quite controlling in bed. He seemed to boldly take what was offered to him. Almost as if the very essence of love had no meaning now without the taste of Dean between his lips. Nothing to Cas felt more exhilarating than to witness all the dark thoughts and stormy clouds disappearing from the other man's soul as he offered the softest kind of caresses and kisses.

"Don't ever relieve yourself in the shower again without me," Cas whispered into Dean's right ear.

"Or else what?" the hunter dared to ask, his toes curling in his boots. He reached behind him and sought out the feel of soft, messy hair.

Cas leaned in closer and pressed a kiss onto Dean's flushed cheek. "Or else I'll replace where your hand was last night with my mouth and trust me, Dean, I've been dying to taste you down there for years now. So, you might need a week to recover."

He could only huff out a reply as those emerald eyes widened.

Evidently Cas was growing quite comfortable with the idea of screwing with his mind. Never had he even imagined that the other man could contribute so much sensational vocabulary into their conversation. It was something that Dean obviously had not anticipated and he…favored the change. He welcomed it and wondered if Cas stimulating string of words could get such a rise out of him, then how the hell would they survive in bed?

"Shit," Dean barely caught a glimpse of Sam heading their way. "Oh, fucking hell," he kicked up a short tantrum in the front seat and groaned loudly as Cas settled back and laughed heartily. "He always ruins the best moments!"

"Shh," Cas reached forward and playfully tickled Dean's left earlobe.

"So get this," Sam swung his goddamn long frame into the car and was completely oblivious to the tension in the car, "dude working cashier was telling me about an incident a couple nights ago where some random guy walks in there and asks if they sell blood. Probably some whacko wanna be vampire. Dean, why the hell are you so red?"

"Take over," the older Winchester barely provided in a hoarse tone. "Drive. I'm beat."

"Oh…kay," Sam frowned, threw Cas a questionable look and then exited the car. "Dude, what the hell?" he asked as they crossed paths. But Dean tossed him the keys and with a strained expression his face, his brother rounded the car and climbed into the other side.

"Unbelievable," the younger Winchester was utterly confused. And then…then he wondered if a quick hand job had been initiated in his absence. With a smile widening on his handsome face, Sam climbed into the driver's seat and snickered like a demon fresh from hell.


	14. Restraint

From the moment they returned safely to the bunker, there was no time for idle conversations or for Dean to enact his payback on Cas because one of Sam's high school friends reached out about a murder.

It seemed as if he had moments ago touched down only to pack up and head out the door because Dave had been one of Sam's best friends. Apart from that, his brother had been itching for a good hunt. And this particular one smelled like a shifter. So he complied with a heavy heart, dreading that even though the case was in Lebanon, Kansas, Cas didn't want to join them. And because of this declination, Dean left the bunker again with a heavy heart.

"I mean he could have come along," Sam took the wheel as they drove away. "He slept pretty much more than you and me on the journey back."

"Dunno" Dean scrubbed his face and stared out the window, swallowing down any kind of doubts, "he said he's beat."

"Everything okay between you two?" Sam frowned.

His brother smiled. "Last time I checked; everything was perfect."

"Huh. Maybe he needs some time alone. You know, to figure some things out. A lot has happened in a short time, Dean."

"Tell me about it," the older Winchester sighed. "Feels like just the other day mom died and then Cas left. And I was a mess. Now here we are. I never saw this coming, Sammy. I'm in a relationship. With Cas."

Sam smiled. His chest swelled from joy. "Truth be told, I always saw it coming. Only question was when it would happen. But now that is has happened," he considered his brother with a shrug, "I'm happy that you're happy. You finally get to settle down with someone. Through all this…crap we've been dealing with, I figured that the biggest win would be you getting together with Cas."

"Wish you could get the same thing, Sammy," Dean offered in a softer tone. "Doesn't feel fair."

"Dude, all my life, relationships don't work out for me. I've always had to let them go. And I've come to a point in my life where the best thing that could ever happen to me is having you and Cas and me in the same space. You're all the family I need."

"Yeah but don't you crave a little action? At least a one-night stand?" Dean studied his brother's face and frowned. "We're men. We have our needs."

"Remember I told you about the girl I met in Sioux Falls?" Sam was suddenly beaming at the road. "The hunter?"

"Oh, you sly dog," Dean sat up straighter now and stared in disbelief at his brother. "The blonde with the dragon tattoo?"

"Same one," Sam nodded, a dull blush creeping across his face. "Well let's just say that she lives right here in Lebanon and we've been talking. A lot. But…just talking. It's nice to have someone to talk to about the job. She reminds me of Eileen."

Dean felt a wave of hurt sweep into the car like a cold draft. Remembering someone as special as Eileen wasn't an easy thing to accomplish because with her memories, came the stolen glances and happy face Sam would make when she texted or called. The way Sam's demeanor changed completely to a welcoming glow when she would visit them. And now that he had that same damn look on his face from talking about the blonde, Dean didn't fight it.

"What's her name?" he pressed on, remembering how he had caught Sam leaning in a little too much, whispering and laughing.

"Georgia," the younger Winchester couldn't stop smiling. "And her tattoo is a Drogon from Game of Thrones."

"Nerds alike." Dean shook his head, wondering how could the world become so unpredictable. He always believed that his life would lead him in the direction of death without finding love. And he never imagined that both of them; him and his brother would actually find someone through all this chaos, that made them believe that love existed.

Now as they climbed out the car and greeted Dave's contact at the police station, Dean wondered if there was the possibility of a happy ending. If maybe, they could win this war and change the game. Because he wanted to have a home with Cas. He wanted to love someone as precious as Cas forever. And if he couldn't have that, then at least admitting that they pulled through to reach this glorious point was sufficient.

For the entire night though, they were thrown into a web of shifters that were so cunning, Sam almost got screwed over when he really believed one of them was Dean. Trying to focus on a hunt again wasn't proving to be an easy fete as the two of them basically swung their way through a chaotic farmhouse, battling gnarling familiar faces. Thank goodness that none of them took the shape of Cas though or else he would have literally flipped out. But by the time they were finished, both of them returned to the bunker bloody and fatigued and whilst Sam retreated to his room, Cas helped Dean into the kitchen for a hot cup of tea.

"It's like five in the morning," the hunter felt a migraine gnawing behind his temples. "What good will a cup of tea do?"

Cas brought over the warm concoction of ginger and honey and rested it carefully in front of Dean. "You'll sleep like a lamb. And I did not use the term 'baby' because a lamb is sufficient enough to describe you when you're sleeping. Very adorable."

"You're…adorable," Dean could barely contribute any kind of humor as he sipped slowly. "I'm…disgusting right now. I need a shower," he considered his torn jacket and frowned at the stains.

"Here," Cas rose up and his footsteps padded upon the floor. "Let me help you, my love." Standing behind Dean, he carefully helped the other man to relieve himself of the tattered jacket and then when he realized that there was no grace in him left to heal the scars, Cas went in search of a First Aid kit.

"Don't leave me!" Dean dramatically reached out a hand, pleading. "Come back. I need you."

"Funny how I dreamt those same words coming out of your mouth the night I walked out on you," Cas returned immediately with the kit. His fingers worked quick but gentle enough to soothe the other man's wounds.

"Man, that part of my life has literally been burnt from my memories because of how painful it was," Dean hung his head in shame. "Let's not go back there."

"Okay," Cas ruffled Dean's soft hair and collected the kit. "All done." But then as he slipped away, his left hand was sought for and gingerly squeezed. Their eyes met; both shades mellow with love.

"You're like the perfect boyfriend," the hunter carelessly allowed his thoughts to slip past his lips. "Me, coming home all bloody from a hunt and you're just here to make me all comfortable and warm with a cup of tea and a First Aid Kit."

"It's also called love," Cas said matter-of-factly, entwining their fingers as the warmth of their connection dizzied his mind. "The person I care about is first and foremost my responsibility. I'll always be here for you, to take care of you."

"Just as I'll always be here too when you need me," Dean returned, realizing that over the years, Cas had tended to his needs in the most crucial moments more than he had spared enough time to return the gesture.

"Now, are you going to take a shower because I really think that you should."

"Do you want to join me?" Dean was very suggestive although his mind was terribly tired. "Just kidding. I'll head in now."

"Hmm," Cas collected the empty cup and washed up. "Okay," and he waited for, perhaps the kind of question that would suggest that he was welcome into Dean's room. But nothing was further implied. Maybe Dean was too tired to really desire his company at 5am. "Good night, Dean," he said softly, his gaze lingering on the warried hunter going through the door.

And maybe he expected too much. Maybe he really needed to process the slow pace that had been suggested by the other man. That they refrain from rushing into things too fast in fear of losing the fire between them in the process. But when Castiel actually pondered on the possibility of losing interest in Dean, the idea was simply ludicrous.

How could he ever find Dean Winchester anything but wholly extraordinary?

For ten years he had been fighting with his feelings, then after deciding that standing in the eye of the storm was normal, he simply allowed himself to savor the good, the bad and everything else. Castiel decided that if love was going to eventually strip away everything he considered to be normal; then risking it all for Dean was worth it. And maybe that's why he felt seriously conflicted after the other man brushed aside the simple question of asking for his company. Because he believed that their connection warranted no walls anymore.

But he didn't want to overstep any boundaries. Dean's room was his sacred sanctuary. A place where he turned off the world and turned on his thoughts, his feelings and his worst fears. So he didn't dare venture into Dean's space without being asked because they were still considerably fragile. Their love still needed time to bloom and if he had to wait a little while more to achieve everything his heart desired, then Castiel was prepared to bear the pain.

On a rainy Saturday evening whilst the wind howled like in Sioux Falls and thunder rolled around up above, Sam had the brilliant idea of hosting a movie night. So in the War Room as Dean had suddenly been referring to it as; the abundance of space one meets after descending the stairs into the bunker; Sam fetched every single pillow he could locate and scattered them onto three soft, fluffy comforters. The comforters were very thick blankets Jody had presented them with last Christmas; Cas' own was the fluffiest and blue like his eyes, as well as Dean's that was green whilst Sam's own was a dark brown with a large Hogwarts' Crest embroidered in the middle. The last one had been Alex's gift to the younger Winchester since she had always bonded with him through a range of Harry Potter trivia.

After setting up the bowls of popcorn, Sam and Dean dragged the 32'' television out on stand that had wheels. And Cas, well after deciding to ditch the trench coat, he was already seated on his very blue fluffy cloud, feet folded and clad in a long-sleeved red wool sweater with black tailored pants. Ideally, he was contented enough to allow his gaze to linger on Dean's attire which consisted of a black ACDC vest and a red and black plaid shirt that was unbuttoned all the way down and faded blue jeans.

"I can't believe Sam's going to make us watch Harry Potter," the older Winchester straightened up after plugging in a few wires and suddenly noticed that blue eyes were focused on his behind. And when those same pair of eyes shifted to meet his emerald ones, Dean's lips twitched into a smile whilst his neck dusted with the softest shade of pink. He cleared his throat.

"Dude, it's a good haul," Sam was still setting up. "Trust me, you wouldn't regret it."

"It's a good storyline," Cas contributed, patting the expanse of green next to him. He offered a shy smile at Dean who settled into a sitting position merely four inches away.

"You've seen them all?"

Cas frowned. "When Metatron shared his mental library with me, I was briefed on the books," he playfully tapped Dean's nose. "But I've never seen the movies."

"Watch out, Dean," Sam said as the intro to the movie began to roll out on the screen, "Cas might fall head over heels in love with Daniel Radcliffe." He adjusted the position of the television a little more and then hopped onto his bed that contained at least five pillows of assorted sizes.

"Well..." Cas shrugged.

"Wait, the actor who plays Harry Potter?" Dean frowned. "Why would he find him even remotely attractive when I'm sitting not even a foot away?"

Sam smiled and collected his bowl of popcorn, "because," he said settling onto the pillows, "the dude has green eyes."

"So what?" Dean suddenly felt defensive. "You're trying to tell me that the only thing Cas loves about me is my freaking eye color? I have so much more to offer. I have a six pack –"

"Of beer," Sam continued with a scoff, "right over there," he jerked his chin towards the cooler sitting by Cas' shoes. "And besides, as you age, you're losing your tones, bruh."

"Are you trying to say that I'm old?"

"Shh," Cas lightly brushed Dean's arm, "you age like wine. And you're aware of the truth already. That I love you for far more than the color of your eyes. So be quiet."

"Don't shush me," Dean said in a hushed tone as his attention flicked to the screen. Then towards Cas. Back at the television again. "I'm hot."

"Stop," Cas whispered as Sam scowled in the darkened space. "You're going to make him mad. Don't…" he smiled as Dean leaned back on his elbows and shuffled into his space, a small smile also playing on his lips. Then tugging his fluff of green closer to Cas, Dean broadened the space between himself and his brother. By then, he was literally shoulder to shoulder with Cas who obviously savored the warmth whilst he hugged his bowl of popcorn.

Thirty minutes into the movie and Dean's questions had already begun, forcing Sam to pause the movie two times so that he could elaborate. And even though he tried his best to reveal the least amount of spoilers, his brother taunted the life out of him. Did he have a crush on McGonagall? Would he please recommend hair products to Snape? Did he think Hagrid would tend to the bunker's lawns? Could Hermione teach him a spell or two?

"Shut up!" Sam finally snapped, turning up the volume past 60 and settling down once more.

"What a grinch," Dean pouted at his brother then he turned to Cas, faking a saddened expression. "He shouted at me, Cas. I'm so sad."

"Come here," the other man offered a warming smile as he extended his right arm. "I'll hug you until you're not sad anymore." The movie was turning out to be very inaccurate in most parts. However, blue eyes remained immensely focused on the screen.

"K," Dean childishly continued the drama as he lowered his head onto Cas' comforting right shoulder.

So much for being playful, he thought. And then he was willingly pulled closer as Cas wound his sleeved arm around to cradle Dean's neck. The smell though, of honey and warm oranges and the softest scent of butter captivated his mind though. So much, that he started to drown in the moment instead of staying entirely focused on the movie.

When Cas pressed a lingering kiss onto the top of his head, Dean's chest heaved because he suddenly felt so loved and needed and appreciated. It was the most surreal feeling of all. Knowing that he belonged to someone. That he was being sheltered and considered. That was enough to soften his heart into a sigh. And when he reached for Cas' right hand that lingered at his hip, the other man willingly entwined their fingers and squeezed.

He was floating.

They were lying side by side, on the softest cloud and then he felt Cas drawing him in closer and closer. Like he was trying to deprive the possibility of any kind of space between them. Maybe he was suffocating because of wanting so much more. But Dean couldn't tell. All he could ascertain from the gesture was that they longed for each other's love and affections. They craved each other, almost as if the years gone by had left them too thirsty to take inch of distance for granted anymore.

Sam was devastated when his phone rang and Dave announced that he had driven into town for the night. He wanted to see his good old friend to knock two beers down at a local pub. So after leaving with a heavy heart because he felt deprived of continuing the marathon, Dean and Cas were left alone in each other's company in the shadows. And when the silence dragged on between them as the movie played on screen, Dean literally could only focus on the teasing in the car. The suggestive words. The way Cas had kissed his damn neck, and excited his pores.

He wanted Cas to initiate that same kind of foreplay again. He really longed for that connection again but then his own words were on replay in his damn mind. Of him advising that they must pace themselves. That they didn't rush everything. Dean longed to kiss Cas so much that his heart made small quick painful leaps in anticipation.

"Are you okay?" the other man asked suddenly in his gravelly voice. "You've become so quiet."

"I can't focus on the movie," Dean admitted in a softer tone.

"Well, if you're as fascinated as I am by the way they twisted certain parts of the plot, then you would –" Cas' vision was immediately obscured as a pair of emerald eyes moved in closer.

Dean, deciding that he would literally be driven into insanity if he didn't give in, delivered a soft kiss at first. As if testing the temperature of the water in a lake. Then when Cas' blue eyes blinked back in the mellowest shade, he dived in for a deeper taste. And for the second time ever in his life, the hunter felt like he was drinking from the purest source of bliss. Like there was no going back but only to delve deeper and deeper.

To Cas, kissing Dean was reminiscent of sitting around a blazing fire in the middle of winter. The feeling of slowly being washed over with the purest satisfaction of warmth. The sensation travelling through his body; limb to limb, head to the tip of his toes. Dean tasted like beer and popcorn and a hint of whisky. He kept trying to catch his breath between Cas' parted lips and over again over again, he moved in for more.

Cas realized that he wasn't breaking anymore. Every time he captured Dean's mouth from longing and passion, he was unbecoming himself and unfolding into something raw. They held back a little between kisses and gazed at each other through the haze of passion, staring in disbelief at each other as if their minds simply could not fathom the depth of their love. And Cas most of all loved the slow pace. The slow burn. The crescendo that was climbing up and up like a volcano swelling with lava.

Cas' body was on fire, heart racing and then through it all, as breathless as he had become, Dean swung a leg over him whilst holding onto the most passionate kiss he ever had. And he settled comfortably on top of the other man's heaving body. Feeling his beating heart. His heaving chest. The way Cas felt so perfect under Dean, he couldn't believe how making love to Cas could turn him on, could excite every single pore on his body.

Dean was aching to be released from the restraints of his jeans and after feeling how long and thick Cas felt inside his goddamn pants, possibly more generously gifted than he was, he wanted to hold him. He wanted to unzip the other man's pants and feel him between his eager fingers. Most of all, he wanted to see him for the first time and marvel over how perfect he was.

And thoughts, dreaming and expecting wasn't going to satisfy him ever again. Not when they began to naturally form a delicious rhythm, grinding their hips together as they breathed into each other's parted lips.

Cas wanted Dean too, god how he yearned for so much more. But first, he helped the other man out of his shirt and allowed his eager fingers to roam Dean's toned biceps all the way towards the firm skin on his back, feeling how those beautiful muscles rippled from every kind of movement. Dean curled into him like a comma, initiating another deep kiss against his will. And Cas moaned so deeply all of a sudden, he didn't realize why his body opened up so gloriously until the hunter shifted over him. And Cas' mind spun out of control when Dean reached for him inside of his pants boldly and wrapped his shaking fingers around the one part of him that had become so sensitive to a breath of touch.

He couldn't even find an ounce of strength to say that one name; to remind him that he loved him and he wanted him so badly. Cas felt helpless and like they were moving so fast already, he feared the outcome. It was like hoping and then dreading the moment when they both realized that they could not turn back. That they were going to push each other off the edge and then maybe, just maybe, Dean would regret it because he was the one who asked for them to pace themselves.

And here Dean was, latching his hand onto Cas and slowly building up a pace that contradicted his terms. What was it called? Dean was…jerking him off and he couldn't understand why he wasn't welcoming the slow, painful crescendo that was driving him so crazy, he breathed heavily into Dean's neck and dug his fingernails into the perfect skin on the hunter's back as if the world was ending. His smell. Sweat and Irish Spring and very soon, the air was consumed with the musical sounds of rhythmic sex. Of him moaning into the delicious friction of his dick between Dean's skillful hand and the warm breath of the hunter as he buried his face into Cas' neck.

"Dean," his voice was barely a whisper. He tried. But Dean had freed his hot, hard length from inside of his pants and he was deliciously jerking the two of them off. Cas couldn't stop him. He was so breathless and he was choking on sounds that originated from the newest taste of pleasure pooling into his gut. And no matter how difficult it was to slow them down, Cas believed that he had to.

"Stop," he croaked as his chest heaved uncontrollably and Dean still continued to grind their dicks together in his hand. "Dean," it was so painful for him to say his name in possibly the most hurtful moment.

"Cas?" the hunter stopped moving, and resting their foreheads together, he stared into blue eyes that were suddenly wet from tears. "What's wrong?"

Raking his fingers through Dean's hair, wet from perspiration, Cas' lips trembled as he tried to form the words. "We need to…slow down."

"Huh?" Dean's voice was so soft and his emerald eyes swirled with confusion. "Did I hurt you? Fuck," suddenly buried his face into Cas' shoulder and removed his hand from between them.

"You didn't," Cas held him in his arms and pressed a kiss onto the other man's hair. One inch of moment reminded him that they were so close, he could feel that one part of Dean that he had always wondered about in his dreams. Or when they were together. Now though he was certain of the other man's size and how glorious he felt; so hard and perfect.

"Then what happened?" Dean asked against the shell of Cas' right ear. He was so damn confused, suddenly so torn and cold, he couldn't understand what was happening. And the worst part of it was, they were still connected at the hip. Dean could still feel Cas' long and hard between his legs and he lost it. Within seconds, he felt tears burning behind his eyelids and didn't know why the hell he was hurting so much.

"We agreed that we would…take it slow," Cas tried to explain, feeling like an idiot. "Do you remember?"

Dean rolled off of him, heavy and with a painful groan and in that moment, the other man realized that maybe he had made the biggest mistake ever. Maybe he wasn't ready to do any of this. To jump into a relationship because he obviously had no idea how sex worked. He didn't understand foreplay and maybe he should have allowed Dean to continue because now, Dean remained on his back and he was staring up at the ceiling as if the world had frozen over.

A full minute rolled by without any response and then weakly, Dean zipped his pants, lifted himself up and sat there, arms folded over his knees. "Okay, so yeah we did agree that we should take things slow," he began, in such a low tone, his words sounded slightly deadly.

"We did," Cas was holding his breath as he sat up too. Why was he feeling so frightened?

Dean sighed. Running his fingers through his hair, he stood up and went to the television. Turning it off, he collected the cord and unplugged it from the wall in silence. Then walking back to where they were moments ago, intimately feeling a part of each other that they had never before experienced, Dean avoided Cas' eyes as bent down and pressed a soft kiss onto the ruffled light brown hair that was still damp. Turning his back on him was possibly the most hurtful part. As he began to walk away, Dean could feel how his gut literally wrenched with pain.

"Where are you going?" Cas asked, as he stood up and stared at the other man's retreating figure. "Dean?"

"Room," the hunter threw over his shoulder, trying hard to keep the tears at bay.

"I'm coming with you—"

"Don't," Dean suddenly stopped by the doorway and shook his head. "Cas, please. Right now, I can't…do this. I just need to be alone."

"I'm sorry," Cas tried again in a wounded tone as he closed the distance between them. "Dean, I shouldn't have stopped you. I should have let you continue but I kept remembering what we discussed in the car about us taking things slow."

"I know," was all the hunter could manage in a very rough voice as he was consumed with so many conflicting feelings.

Cas was staring at him like a deer in the headlights though, arms hanging limply at his sides. The red wool sweater was bunched up around his hips. A slice of skin showed. Perfect, smooth skin. And just around his neck, there was a dust of color where Dean had give new feeling to Cas' pores. Where he had pressed the most tender kisses and tasted the purest form of bliss. And now, as they faced each other in a newfound light, Dean realized that he loved Cas so much, if he couldn't have him in his life, then he would fade away.

"Please don't walk away from me," Cas suddenly said in a wounded tone as tears glistened in his blue eyes. "Dean, I don't want us to crumble anymore. This is me begging you not to hate me because I—"

"Hate you?" Dean took two slow steps towards the other man, his voice falling into a softer tone. He carefully allowed twelve inches of space between them, simply because his body was still raging. "Cas, I could never, ever hate you. No matter what you do. Even if you push me away, I'll keep loving you until there's no life left inside of me. I've told you before. I need you."

As Cas closed the distance between them though, Dean's words contradicted his actions because he kept stepping back. Every inch that was eaten away by Cas' burning desire to draw close to him was separated by the fear rippling inside of Dean's mind.

"Don't," he warned, his voice trembling.

"Let me touch you," Cas' eyes danced dangerously with a kind of look that suggested that he was motivated to do something. And when he was motivated, nothing could stop him. "Dean. I'm sorry. I don't want to lose you."

"Cas, if you touch me," Dean held up a hand, his chest heaving uncontrollably, "we wouldn't be able to take things slow. I guarantee you." When his back hit the wall behind him, the hunter gasped. He realized first and foremost that he was possibly screwed.

But then there could be many definitions of 'being screwed over', right? Like when Cas decided to leave a breath of an inch between them and very bravely, as those blue eyes drowned green ones, he slowly unzipped Dean's jeans. Certain of what was to be achieved, knowing that perhaps his declination to the other man's needs was terribly selfish. Even though he might have been able to control himself, he marveled over the power their chemistry held over Dean. The way his eyes grew wide as saucers when Cas slid his hand into the hunter's boxers. And when the back of Dean's head hit the wall, his eyes became glassy.

He was defeated.


	15. Release

Lying in bed, with the rain hammering the bunker's shell, Dean stared up at the ceiling and tried to hold onto every breath Cas took.

In his arms, the other man was limp from sleeping deep, from drowning in a world of dreams where Dean's body refused to gift to him. Because having Cas in his arms was like falling into the deepest, and safest dream ever. And he didn't want to wake up. He didn't want to be a hunter anymore.

He didn't want to hunt monsters or demons. Most of all, he couldn't fight angels. He was holding an angel in his arms. Might be one that had his grace depleted but Cas used to be an angel. He used to be a warrior and he still was a warrior. Every damn day, Cas had fought so many battles. He had to keep his feelings to himself for so many years. Feelings he had been experiencing for the first time for a human; one of his father's creations. How screwed up they both were to find each other and fall in love.

How painful it was to wonder what dark paths Cas had trodden through when he realized he had been in love?

In the early hours of the morning, three o'clock staring back at him from the clock on the wall, he let out a shaky breath through his parted lips and he just…he held Cas closer to him. He felt his heart beating. How soft Cas felt. He couldn't believe how love had shown him so many layers to a simple word. So perfect. So beautiful. Love had changed him, had broken every freaking part of his existence and now, he was wavering on a feeling that was so intense, Dean couldn't sleep.

The way Cas had touched him. Held him in his arms whilst Dean's knees weakened and he couldn't find the energy to stand up anymore. Not after the other man had proven to him how his body had never ever before been able to open up fully to someone else touching him.

"Cas, please," he had begged when the other man had reached into his pants and found that one part of him that was embarrassingly hard and straining for release.

He had searched Dean's eyes, blue ones imploring for instructions on how to avoid making any mistakes. And when Cas pressed him up against the wall, their breaths intermingling and their heads growing dizzy, Dean choked out a sob.

"Just…" he struggled to breathe, "let me…" he fumbled with Cas' zipper and discovered that the other man was still hard, and straining inside the soft fabric of his briefs. "Are you sure?" he stupidly asked, dreading a denial. "Because…"

When Cas wrapped his fingers around Dean and began to slowly guide his hand along his dick though, it was enough to send the hunter's mind careening down a tunnel, building a crescendo. He was a fast learner. He really was. Cas mirrored exactly how Dean was tormenting him in his pants and the two of them quickly gained a rhythm that was so damn perfect, with his back grinding against the wall, the hunter couldn't remain silent.

His body was on fire, and so consumed with passion, that he cried out Cas' name hoarsely several times and wasn't ashamed of it. In fact, he wasn't even in control of his body anymore when the other man began to stroke him skillfully and he returned the favor. And both of them leaned in, tasting each other's breaths and daring a kiss that was deeper than the others they had shared. So deep, he moaned loudly into Cas' mouth when he felt himself nearing the edge.

He kept feeling how his nerves were exploding all over, how his thighs were washed over in a softer, warmer sensation just before he reached the brink of letting go and then…

Cas released him, pressing Dean hard against the wall as both of their cocks fitted perfectly alongside each other. And he began to grind their hips together, reaching in and sucking the soft, tender skin between Dean's neck and his shoulder. Trying to mark his territory. Trying to muffle his hoarse cries as he took control and loved it. He pinned Dean's arms above his head and bucked his hips. As he felt how glorious their friction was. He had never experienced sex in that form or dreamed that his body could overflow with so much feelings.

"Let go," he pleaded into Dean's neck whilst the other man held onto him, driving pathways with his fingers through Cas' sweat soaked hair. "I love…you, Dean. Let…go. My…love."

"Fuck!" Dean's release was so sudden and mind-blowing, he felt like he had never experienced the depths of pleasure like the moment they shared.

Both of them came together, holding onto each other and crying out their names and pet names. Over and over again they spilled their release into each other's pants, still working their bodies together, joined at the hips and sharing so much more than they had ever imagined between them. Dean was overwhelmed from the beauty of feeling so connected to Cas as they experienced their first step of intimacy in a physical form with so much depth. He was so damn relieved. Finally.

And then he never thought it was possible, but they built up that same delicious rhythm again. This time though, they were hungry for each other, almost as if their souls were making love. As if their kisses could grow deeper and deeper. Dean sought out Cas' tongue and invited the intrusion into his mouth. And when they realized how tasting each other on a whole other level was so enticing, they couldn't let go. Gasping for air, he tried to take control but Cas wouldn't allow it at all. Not when all the pent-up tension between them was slowly being released. Not when he could take all he wanted without holding back.

Cas shoved Dean's pants down, the garment falling to the hunter's ankles, and he trailed a path of soft kisses down the other man's torso. Awakening Dean in every possible way when his body trembled, back arching into the wall. Dean's muscles moved under his perfect skin as beads of sweat dampened his vest. And he wanted to take the garment off, to admire Dean in the soft glow of the bunker's lights but his patience was growing thin by the second.

"Oh god," Dean covered his face with his hand, shaking from the thrilling feeling of welcoming all of his dreams coming to life. Cas was actually going to…And then when he felt the other man's mouth close around his already hardened cock, Dean cried out hoarsely and his body began to convulse from the blissful earth-shattering feeling. "Cas," he drove his fingers through dark hair that was wild from their love making, and when Cas took him fully into his mouth, Dean couldn't restrain himself further.

He let go, marveling over his fastidious release and shaking from the feeling of Cas literally swallowing every single time his hips jerked. Over and over again, he wondered how on earth he could have held onto so much. How he probably had never been able to have that kind of release with anyone else since Cas had died and his world had been destroyed. Now that he had him back, Dean realized that everything he held inside of him, every single convulsive state of his body, was because of his longing and love for Cas.

But he wanted so much more.

How as it possible?

Now, as he lay in bed and stared up at the ceiling, Dean wanted to make love to Cas over and over again. He wanted to peel away his clothes, and kiss every single inch of him. To feel how soft his skin felt between his thighs. To taste him inside his mouth, hot and hard and on fire. He had never tasted another man before. Never. Dean had never ever imagined in his wildest dreams that he would lying in bed, aching to go down on a guy like Cas. And now, as the other man's warm breath brushed his neck, he carefully rolled over on his side, still cradling Cas' in his arms, and he pressed their foreheads together.

Instantly, Cas brushed their lips together. Almost as if even within the depths of sleep, he was still conscious of yearning for so much more. He kissed Dean lightly at first, and then moaning into the taste of the hunter's mouth, Cas began to drown.

"What time is it?" his gravelly voice had taken on a much hoarser quality.

"About four thirty," Dean remembered, pressing soft kisses onto Cas' nose. The feel of their bodies together was so warm and so reminiscent of a life without war, he wanted to dwell in the stillness forever. "Sorry I woke you."

"Hmm, I keep remembering the pet name you used," Cas fondly caressed Dean's hair behind the shell of his right ear. "I like it very much. It reveals a very soft side of you."

Dean tried to recall but frowned. "Honestly, I was so caught up in the moment, I really can't remember what I called you."

Cas smiled, and offered a kiss so soft, Dean's toes curled. "Darling," he said tenderly. "In your weakest moment, as you let go, the softest name I've ever heard from your lips was darling."

Of course he was stunned for a few seconds, wondering how the hell he had managed to unearth a pet name that was so damn suitable for Cas; Dean hated himself for not thinking of it earlier. But then, he was never the kind of guy who imagined that there would come a moment in time when he would need to attach a label to a man; one who he loved so endlessly. Dean wasn't frightened anymore about loving Cas. He wasn't doubtful. Instead, he was contented.

"Well darling," he said softly now, hugging the other man deeper into his arms, "let's try to get some shut eye before Sam finds a case. And I hope he doesn't find one soon."

For a few days, everything around the bunker and their lives settled into a routine that soothed even Sam's mindset.

No longer did he have to tolerate the sexual tension between his brother and Castiel. Their prolonged gazes or pent up anger from many years of frustration. Now, Sam really admired the two of them being so damn domestic and cute about it, he couldn't stop himself from smiling.

Things obviously went well in his absence when he had decided to grab a few beers with Dave. A little…too well judging from how Dean's entire face turned crimson when Cas entered any room he was in. And it wasn't just the deepened color, but his brother turned into a freaking sixteen-year-old in love; smiling from ear to ear, clumsily knocking into tables and bookshelves. He kept on stammering and really lost track of his trail of thought many times as Cas showed up. And best of all, Dean was much softer…much happier and he glowed.

Sam had never ever seen his brother become so enveloped in the pangs of love like he was whilst loving Castiel. Not even with Lisa. And maybe Dean was getting some, or…a lot behind closed doors. But something was happening and it wasn't just love. Instead, Sam felt like his brother was finally embracing the fact that he had free will and he was entitled to be happy. He had made his own decision to love Castiel and so far, they were doing damn great.

"So get this," he tried to avoid the heart eyes Dean was throwing at Cas over the table in the War Room. Sam cleared his throat, "I think I've found a case. And it's not Chuck related."

"Hmm," Dean settled back into his chair and smiled at Cas. The other man shyly turned his attention to the younger Winchester, obviously trying to avert his eyes from emerald ones.

"Look, if the two of you need some time alone, then just go find a room," Sam teased, collecting his cup of coffee and taking a sip.

"I apologize," Cas provided with a small smile. He settled into his chair, arms folded. "Go on, Sam. Tell us about the case."

"Well two people who died were seen a week after their burial, in a commercial bank, withdrawing cash," Sam swung the laptop around so his brother and Cas could get an eyeful of the two victims. "I smell shifter. But who knows? Could be something else."

"This is…" Cas squinted at the screen, "in Missouri, correct?"

"Yeah, so I was –"

"I don't want to hunt, ever again," Dean whined suddenly. Lifting his eyes to the ceiling, he sighed. "Can we just live normal lives now?"

Sam was utterly confused and somewhat disappointed. "Dean, this is normal. Us saving people. That's what we do."

"Yeah but no one needs saving there," his brother gestured at the laptop screen. "They're already dead. It's just a freaking regular shifter. If we kill it, there are loads more."

"Dean…" Cas' forehead creased in concern. He silently analyzed the older Winchester. "Sam's right. We may as well check this out like we always do. Someone could be in danger. Someone could get hurt. Since when do you refuse to hunt?"

Sighing, Sam raked his fingers through his hair. "Because he's head over heels in love and he's become too distracted by his feelings for you that he's not interested in towing the company line anymore."

"I…" Cas paused and clamped his mouth shut. Staring at Dean for a few seconds, he marveled over the other man's inability to even formulate a debate with his brother. Instead, there he sat, curled up in the chair, blinking slowly at Cas, almost as if he was too mesmerized to think straight. Literally. "Sam, we'll investigate this case. Together."

"Awesome," the taller Winchester offered up a reassuring smile. "We can leave this afternoon." And rising from the chair, he cleared his throat, threw Cas another grateful look before he headed out to start packing for the journey.

For a while the two of them said nothing to each other. Dean's silence was always dangerous, as Cas remembered distinctly from the painful moment when he walked out a few weeks ago. Now, the other man seemed to be containing his thoughts and feelings behind those swirling green eyes.

"Dean?" Cas tried when their eyes met. He braced himself for the inevitable. "Are you okay?"

The hunter shook his head, his eyebrows arching as he blinked in disbelief. "I'm fine."

"You're not," Cas countered with a frown. "Let's talk about this."

"There's nothing to talk about really," Dean shrugged, wondering why it felt like a tennis ball was stuck in his throat "It's obvious that you intend to make all the decisions for me from now on. Seems like I don't have a choice."

"Dean!" Cas was terribly wounded. He couldn't believe that the other man could entertain such ridiculous thoughts. "That is untrue. You've been here in the bunker for weeks on end. The last time you left, we were at Jody's but since we…" Cas swallowed, "since I walked out of here, you haven't had a case. Don't you remember how you used to want to hunt so badly? To save people? Why is it so different now that we're together?"

"Forget it," Dean's chest heaved. He stared off into the distance, obviously on the brink of collapsing from his doubts.

"Please talk to me," Cas pleaded, rising from the chair and approaching the other man. He perched himself on the edge of the table, immediately in front of Dean's form. "Let me in."

"Fine," the hunter said gruffly, and still he couldn't make eye contact. "I'm afraid of losing you more than ever now that we're together," he admitted as his voice wavered. "I've lost you too many times before to know how it freaking…hurts. And every time Sam keeps looking for a case, I don't want him to find one because it means that we're going to have to go out there and face danger. We're going to have to put our lives on the line again. And I don't want you to get…hurt or…for something to happen that will take you away from me."

For a while, Cas merely gazed at Dean and allowed him the space to dwell in his pent-up feelings. Perhaps he felt the same way at times; of fearing the possibility of losing the man he loved.

"Dean, if it makes you feel better at least," Cas tried in a softer tone as he rested a comforting hand on the hunter's right shoulder, "I do share the same fears. I…constantly try not to ponder on those fears because loving you and having you here with me is enough to push aside the pessimism. Maybe we may get hurt during a hunt. But we've gotten scratched and bruised before –"

"But Cas you're human now," Dean blinked back tears. Reaching up, he scrubbed his eyes with the heels of his palm. "It means that when you die, you wouldn't come back and I just can't stop thinking about—"

"Dean," instantly Cas rose up and he swung a leg over the other man's lap. Then comfortably, he lowered himself onto the hunter who let out a small gasp from between parted lips. "Please," Cas begged in a tender tone, brushing Dean's hair gently away from his forehead, "one minute at a time," he said, "remember?"

"One…minute at a…time," trying to gather composure, Dean inhaled deeply, and nodded. "My heart doesn't agree though. It's always running like a hamster on a wheel."

"Maybe you need to start taking deep breaths."

"I can't even breathe when I'm close to you," Dean softly admitted.

Cas sighed. He caressed the other man's jawline with cupped fingers. "I never thought that love could make you lose control of your bodily functions."

"Yeah?" Dean's face danced closer to Cas, teasing. "Maybe you should stop talking about my body because all I want right now is for you to touch me until I lose control again."

"Did I do well enough then?"

The hunter seemed taken aback by the question. "Did you…" he blinked, his chest heaving. "Cas, that was literally the best blowjob I've ever gotten. There's no other experience to compare. Your mouth…" Dean swallowed. "What you…"

"Slow down," Cas whispered as their warm breaths caressed each other's faces, dusting their skin with color. "Easy there, my love."

"Okay, darling," Dean was blushing so deeply, bashful from his decision to use the sweetest pet name. "Please don't leave me. Try hard not to."

Cas, without regrets, brushed their lips together and the thrilling feeling of watching Dean unfold in his grasp was bewitching. It was like watching a flower in bloom. And when he rested their foreheads together, Dean rubbed their noses together so affectionately, even he offered a small smile in return.

"I'm not going anywhere," Cas pressed a kiss onto parted lips. He tasted coffee and cinnamon. "And if I do end up getting hurt, I know that you will look after me until I'm better again. Because you love me and I'm your darling."

Dean actually chuckled into their kiss that lasted for a few seconds. Curling his fingers behind Cas' ears, he kissed him deeper and longer and god how he could not fathom how perfectly they fitted together. In any scenario, Cas seemed to find the ideal position that reminded him how much of an effect Dean had on his body physically. And he always kept craving so much more between them. Wondering how beautifully sculpted Cas was under his damn clothes. His thighs, his biceps.

"Maybe the two of you should start packing," came Sam's voice from the doorway. He cleared his throat.

Cas, chuckling softly, pulled away from the kiss although Dean groaned.

"The two of you are so domestic now, I'm starting to feel like your kid around here," Sam tossed a gun into the knapsack and cleared his throat. "Maybe I should just go on a long vacation and check in once and a while via phone calls."

"Maybe you should shut your face and –"

"Dean!" Cas scolded as he pressed a finger onto the hunter's parted lips. "Stop being so mean."

"Thank you, bro," Sam smiled from ear to ear, as he watched the other man detach himself from his brother. The latter was scowling from the absence of Cas' hands on him and it was so freaking adorable to witness, Sam felt like he was going to explode.

Twenty minutes later with their bags remaining on the map table in the war room, Dean counted the taller Winchester's footfalls on the steps, craning his neck just out of anticipation. Then when the sound of the door banged shut, he grabbed Cas by the edge of his trench coat and pulled him in. Their lips met in the softest of kisses as Dean tasted peanut butter. And after the two of them started to drown in each other's eyes, his composure collapsed.

Dean kissed Cas so passionately, sandwiching him between the table and his body, aching to be touched by those graceful hands. He stopped breathing and melted into the feel of the other man's tongue seeking out his own. Cas kissed him back with so much fervor, it was like they were trying to search deeper and deeper for something inside their souls or their hearts.

"Mmm," Cas moaned into Dean's mouth when the hunter raked his fingers through already disheveled hair.

When Dean attempted to pull away from the other man's lips though, he was yanked back into a kiss that unearthed a loud moan from within his soul. So loud that his body trembled like a leaf. His hands sought out Cas under that damn trench coat and he pulled him in closer until there was not an inch of space between them from head to toe. Just the bothersome feel of their clothes in the way, serving as an intrusion that perhaps was too tormenting.

"God, I love you," Dean managed to whisper upon the other man's lips. He was breathless and panting. "You're the most beautiful thing that has ever happened to me, Cas."

"I love you too," the other man raked his fingers up under the hunter's plaid shirt, eager to touch, to caress the soft skin of Dean's lower back. "Now let's go before Sam leaves without us."

"Truthfully, I don't mind if he does," Dean pulled away but his hands still lingered on Cas shoulders. Collecting his bag, he draped an arm around the other man. "We've got plenty of ourselves left to discover."

"You really can't wait to see me without my clothes on?" Cas asked innocently as they two of them headed up the stairs, in each other's arms. "I'm really not as physically gifted as you are, Dean. I'm just an average human."

Dean laughed. "Are you kidding me right now?" he considered Cas' beautiful face. "Dude, from what I've felt and seen so far, you're a work of art. That ass is just…wow." To place emphasis on his statement, he lowered his hand and boldly squeezed.

"Hey!" Cas tried to dance out of the other man's embrace but Dean just tugged him closer. "That's not funny! Is that the right way to treat the King of your heart?"

"Wow," Dean pushed open the bunker's door and they both stepped outside into the cold, bitter, rainy weather. Sam was scowling by the hood of the car. "Call shotgun. I want you to ride up front with me. He's in a sour mood and that's not fun at all."

Cas, detaching himself from the other man's embrace, briskly approached the taller Winchester. Beaming at Sam, he cleared his throat.

"I'm riding up front with Dean," he proudly announced.

"The hell you are," Sam scowled deeper, shoving his phone into his jean's pocket. "I'm riding in front because I don't want the two of you to be…making kissing noises at each other in front of me."

"Well he's my boyfriend, isn't he?" Cas shrugged.

"He's my brother!" Sam countered in disbelief.

"He's more intimately involved with me!" Cas fussed with his bag and scowled.

Sam scoffed. "I've known him since the day I was born and –"

"Both of you!" Dean shouted from the driver's side, "in the backseat! Now! Dammit."

"I'm not going to fit in the backseat with Sam and his abnormally long legs," Cas pointed out as the taller Winchester pulled open the backdoor and tossed his bag in.

"Way to go calling your best friend and future brother-in-law abnormal, Cas", Sam grinned despite the snide remark. "Remember I was the one who always used to be there for you when Dean kicked you down. Although he owns your heart by now, I was your shoulder to cry on way before the two of you happened."

Dean sighed. He pulled open his door and got in, wanting no part of the chick flick moment.

"Please can I sit up front with you?" Cas' very innocent face peeped through the other window. Those blue eyes were warm like the sunlight hitting the ocean on a lovely day. "I love you so much, Dean. So, so much. I'll hold your hand whilst you drive."

Sam coughed to conceal "kiss ass" from the backseat. Settling down though, he snickered when an evident blush crept up his brother's neck.

"Now I can't say no to that," Dean gave in. "Hop in, huggy bear." He patted the seat next to him and fired up the engine.

"And the year's softest love movie commences in 3…2…1," Sam sighed, rolling his eyes when Cas playfully scratched the nape of the older Winchester's neck and the two of them smiled adorably at each other.


	16. The Past and the Future

The case was supposed to be as simple as ever.

They identified the shifter in less than an hour and then suddenly after trailing the petite blonde down an alleyway, she disappeared without a trace. Then to make matters worse, the Impala was conveniently stolen and Dean's entire mood shifted into a dangerous one that Sam and Cas feared more than anything.

"Dammit!" he kept pacing the space where Baby had been parked, emerald eyes flashing everywhere. "One of us should have waited in the car! Son of a bitch!"

Cas took a tentative step towards him, and yet, he dared not touch the other man. Sometimes when Dean was in a furious mood, Cas really couldn't reach him. No one could. Talking to him would probably unearth an outburst that would end up in the exchange of heated words; something he never wanted to happen easily between the two of them. Now that Dean's most prized possession was stolen in the wind by the shifter, he had shifted into a scary monster himself. And it took every ounce of energy within Cas' soul to keep a considerable distance away from Dean.

"We will find her," he said instead, choosing a soft, measured tone.

Sam sent Cas a sympathetic look because he obviously identified the internal struggle the other man was experiencing by choosing to distance himself.

"She couldn't have gotten far," the taller Winchester supplied. "I'll head up down the street that way," he gestured towards the west. "Cas, you could take the other way and Dean…"

"I know where the hell to go," the hunter said gruffly. Fists clenched, he jogged down the alleyway, and not too long after, swung himself over the low concrete fence. He disappeared as the leaves rustled in the trees, chased each other on the pavement and around Cas' shoes.

Half an hour later, Sam found Baby resting in the shade of a maple tree five blocks away, not too far from an abandoned house with a FOR SALE sign in front. There was no sign of the shifter. In fact, that particular neighborhood was eerily quiet, the lawns unkept and empty windows staring back at him. He collected the keys from the dash, hopped in with a frown and sped off, never sparing a second more because it was too easy.

Why would someone park the car and leave the keys in plain sight?

If they meant to steal it then why not head further away than five blocks? Strange enough, after doing a thorough search of the glove compartment, the trunk and under the seats, Sam realized that the idiot had stolen their fake IDS. The motive was clearer now. The damn shifter was hoping to impersonate one of them and after batting through his memories, Sam remembered that the only person the shifter had touched was Cas.

He alerted Dean immediately. And then, he called Cas who had suddenly found a litter of kittens behind a shed and was trying to relocate them to a warmer spot in someone's yard. The man was literally a pet magnet; and very soon, they would more than likely be adopting some kind of furry ball into the bunker. Sam didn't mind really. He loved dogs and cats. But Dean…Dean would take some getting used to.

As Sam tried to find the burger joint his brother had suggested they all meet up at, he wondered about a few things. He couldn't help it. Not really. Because his brother's wellbeing was first and foremost his biggest concern. Getting Dean back on his feet after he had been terribly shaken by love was a painful occurrence to witness. Especially when his brother had literally fallen down into a pit so deep, he couldn't even crawl out of the rubble by himself. But he seemed to be getting better as the days went by.

Sam found him staring off into the distance at times, but Dean was doing pretty okay. He had been glowing. His complexion wasn't pale anymore. No longer did he lock himself up in his room all day. But he ventured out into the War Room or sought out Cas in the library. The two of them would choose a book, and sit quietly in a corner with Dean's head tucked into the crook of Cas' shoulder and Cas turning the pages slowly. It was so amazing. The sight was honestly pure and beautiful.

Dean Winchester was actually in love.

His brother, the man who loathed the idea of love, who couldn't ever talk about settling down, was becoming so damn soft and domestic. At times, he would wear an apron whilst doing the dishes. He hummed to Taylor Swift songs. He dragged his big green blanket into the War Room and wrapped himself inside like a taco on rainy days as Cas read poetry to him. Dean…listening to poetry. Dean…walking around in his teddy bear patterned PJs and feeding ice cream to Cas. Dean…cleaning the Impala and singing to 'Can't Help Falling In Love With You' by Elvis.

As he pulled up in front of the Burger Palace, Sam got out and smiled to himself. No wonder love was oftentimes described as a tragedy in most literature. His brother was the perfect example of the effects of a brutal love hitting him so hard like a hurricane, all his walls had been knocked down and now he was simply swimming in the pangs of warmth. Of having nothing to burden him down. No expectations. Nothing.

"Thanks, Sam," was the greeting he received from Dean after the younger Winchester slid into a chair around the table. "For finding her."

"Don't mention it," Sam shook his head. "But they got our IDs."

"Gonna take a hell of time and money to get back those," frowning, even the light around Dean seemed softer. He wasn't fading. Instead, his entire aura shifted into a calmer one that swirled with love. "Wonder what's taking Cas so long."

"Oh I think I know why," Sam told Dean about the litter of kittens.

"I swear if he shows up here with the box, I'll just take all of them to the animal shelter and leave them there," the older Winchester shook his head, frowning at the doorway. "Why does he have to find every single animal and shower them with love when he has me?"

"He's just a really loving guy," Sam's heart melted from his brother's words. "His heart is huge. There's plenty of room in there for you, Dean."

"Yeah well he gives the best hugs."

"Is that all?" Sam teased, signaling the waitress. "I mean, you must be past the hugging stage at this point."

"Dude, I'm not going to talk about my sex life with you," Dean sighed and checked his phone.

"So there's a lot of sex then," Sam continued boldly, "ah, a cup of tea for me, no sugar," he said to the waitress who had all eyes for his brother. Decked out in a red and white checkered apron, she owned a heavy bosom and sparkling brown eyes. "I'll also take a salad."

"Um," Dean fumbled with the menu and was completely oblivious to the waitress' flirtatious looks until he sought out her attention. "I'll have a burger. Chicken. With a side of fries. And a Coke."

"Anything else, sweet cheeks?" the petite brunette smiled and tilted her head.

Smiling back sweetly, Dean lifted his chin, appearing pensive. Then after a while as the doorbell jingled and Cas walked in looking fatigued and upset, there was so much love in his eyes, Sam didn't even have to turn around to ascertain who it was.

"I think my boyfriend could do with a cup of tea also. Honey and cinnamon. And um," he didn't even realize that the waitress was blatantly staring at Cas. "What would you like with your tea, huggy bear?"

Cas settled into the chair next to Dean and sighed. He shook his head. "Just a…tuna sandwich. No mayo."

If looks could have killed, the waitress would have murdered Cas instantaneously. Sam, after noticing, frowned deeply because if it was one thing he despised was prejudiced minds. And it was evident that the brunette whose name was Sally had a definitive judgmental look on her face.

"Maybe you should take my number just in case he doesn't live up to your expectation," she had the audacity to say, notepad and pen still poised. There was a dangerous glint in those brown eyes. "I might remind you what loving a woman feels like."

"I don't need to be reminded about that," Dean said in the softest tone ever. There was no hint of anger behind his stare. Just a cool demeanor. He shrugged. "I'm pretty okay with what I have."

"Then stop screwing women with your eyes," Sally sassed, resting a hand on her hip. "From the time you came in here, you were looking at me."

"Look, man," Sam couldn't stand the impertinent attitude, "so far this service sucks. So if you want to make things right with what little expectation that's left for us, then you should walk away. Or else I'll find your manager."

"Tell your boyfriend to stop undressing women with his eyes," Sally tried directly at Cas, who was staring at her with an unreadable expression. "Or are the two of you into threesomes."

"We are…not…" Cas began, frowning deeply and glancing towards Dean.

"That's it," Sam rose from his seat, "we don't need this kind of disrespect. Let's go find some place else to eat."

Collecting his keys from the table, and obviously wounded by the waitress' attitude and the stares they were drawing to the table like flies, Dean followed his brother with Cas in tow. And for some odd reason, he was slightly terrified for the first time. Of the stares mostly. Of knowing that there were people who detested the idea of two men being romantically involved. At one time, he remembered his father laughing with his buddies about pelting beer bottles at a 'queer' on a hunt. But throughout his life, Dean had never been on the receiving end.

Now though, he realized that once his relationship with Cas circulated around every hunter's household, then he would be judged for his preference. He would be identified as a queer that had been the target of his father's jokes, and he would suffer the insults, stares and lost connections. But he shouldn't have cared. Not really. Not as much as how he cared about his reputation when they exited the building and headed to the car. And Cas…

Cas' demeanor suggested that he wasn't affected by any of it. Then again, Dean didn't expect anything else. There were few things that really tickled Cas in the wrong way. Impertinence puzzled him because he always expected the best in someone instead of the worst. He could never understand that there were some rotten folks who could never be nice. Like ever. And maybe that was Cas' weakest point and his strongest area at the same time.

As they hopped into the car, Dean thought about how selfless Cas was. Of how he focused on the good instead of the bad. Throughout their lives so far, nothing ever stopped Cas from protecting someone he believed the world in. Like Dean. If anyone tried to compromise Dean's existence, Cas blasted them without sparing a second.

"You good?" Dean tried to penetrate the other man's silence as they pulled out of the parking lot.

"I…" Cas huffed out a sigh, "…Dean I don't feel comfortable."

"Neither do I," the hunter admitted. It began to rain lightly. "But hey, we'll have to get used to it, you know?"

"Oh yeah," Sam scowled in the rearview mirror. "The stares. The comments. They're all narrowminded, shallow, evil people."

"And we have Sam to back us up," Dean forced out a smile. He considered the side of Cas' face. The man was evidently still upset. "Look, you don't have to go through this alone. Remember, I'm always here for you. Don't be upset about it."

"I'm not upset about the stupid waitress," Cas suddenly pointed out in a very irritated tone. "I'm upset because I rested the box of kittens under a shed but I didn't consider the possibility of heavy rainfall and flooding. How could I be so…"

"Hey," Dean reached out and squeezed the other man's left shoulder affectionately, "look, if you want, we can go back and fix them up properly so that the box is high up and safe."

"I want them, Dean," Cas sounded so cute and appeared so adorable as he pleaded, the older Winchester snapped his eyes to the road, trying not to melt. "There are two of them. A ginger and a grey."

"Cas…" Dean's voice broke and Sam sat back, aching to listen to his brother's approach on the matter. "I know that you…love cats and dogs and anything that's fluffy, cute and breathes. But I've told you before. Man, look, we're on the road a lot. Even you said that we should start hunting again. At times, we might not make it home for days. So we can't have pets because we can't take on the responsibility right now."

Blinking away the tears forming in his eyes, Cas bit his lips and nodded slowly.

"I'm really sorry, okay?" Dean's heart was breaking when he discovered those wet blue eyes. "What we can do, is ask around town for anyone who wants to adopt them. We'll find a good home. How does that sound?"

Swallowing the hurt down his throat, Cas nodded, avoiding eye contact.

"Don't cry," Dean's voice was so soft when he reached for the man he loved. Entwining their fingers, he didn't care about his brother's intrusive eyes. "Don't think that I don't like pets. I've always wanted a pet. Ask Sam. Back when we were kids, dad made up a rule after I took a black Labrador back to the motel room and wanted to keep her."

"He told us that hunters don't do pets," Sam piped up, folding his arms on the seat and leaning forward. "He waited till we were asleep and took the dog out somewhere far. When Dean woke up, I think he cried for more than a day."

"Her name was Beaches," Dean smiled as the memories stung his heart. "Loved that dog. Named her after the movie because it's a classic. We also used to feed our food to cats in like every motel Sam and I stayed at."

"Hey, remember Patches?" Sam laughed and tossed back his locks. "Back in Iowa. The cat that ate Twinkies and loved coffee?"

"Man, how could I forget Patches?" Dean nodded. "Good memories. You okay?" he caressed Cas warm neck with cupped fingers.

"Yeah," Cas reached up and collected the hunter's soft hand. Entwining their fingers, he pressed a kiss onto Dean's knuckles. "Thank you. And you too, Sam."

After they checked into the Bird's Nest Motel, the three of them met up in the small café downstairs to discuss the case. So far, what they had gathered was that the shifter seemed to be ripping people off by stealing their identities then withdrawing all the victims' savings. The last suit worn by the damn thing was a petite blonde with large blue eyes.

"It's highly possible that it's been killing these people then stealing their credentials," Sam thought out loud, trying to do a bit of digging into each of the victim's personal lives. "Says here that Miranda Smith never showed up for a date at a local pub. When her boyfriend went to check on her, he found her body in the alleyway right next to the pub, stripped of her wallet."

"What I don't get is where Baby comes into all of this," Dean frowned over his cup of coffee. "Like why jump the back wall and run after my damn car? Plus you found her what? About five blocks away?"

"Well, whoever it is wouldn't be able to withdraw any kind of savings using our fake IDs," Sam pointed out. "We don't have bank accounts. And besides, like you said, why did he or she ditch the car?"

"Maybe because of knowing that I'd freaking torture them? Like slow torture?"

"Yeah, well," Sam met Dean's eyes and jerked his chin at Cas who was sitting at the table, brooding and pensive. "Hey, let me ask around if anyone wants to adopt the kittens," he cleared his throat, got up and patted Cas on the shoulder. "Be right back."

Whilst his brother wandered around the motel's café, greeting strangers and making friends like his personality always allowed, Dean sipped his coffee. Slowly though. His gaze remained on Cas sitting opposite him. Worry felt like poison running through his veins. He wanted to just transport them to another universe where everything about their lives hadn't been threatened and God wasn't the biggest enemy. And he wanted to build a home for Cas, where he could have all the pets he wanted.

But he couldn't.

Dean hated that he couldn't gift Cas all the little things that were so significant. Most times, he felt like a failure because of the circumstances of their lives. Like the bullet wound on Sam's shoulder that they didn't talk about. The visions his brother kept having; the nightmares. The fact that Cas had lost all his mojo and most days, he seemed to miss what he used to be. Sure, he never admitted it, but Dean recognized the pain. It was like losing a huge chunk of your being.

"Are we okay?" he tried in a very low voice, hating himself for becoming paranoid. "Are you mad at me because I can't give you a home where you can have a pet?"

Immediately, Cas' blue eyes found his emerald ones. "Dean…"

"Because it's fine if you're mad at me for those reasons," the hunter admitted in a defeated tone, "truth is, sometimes I feel like you deserve better. You're so damn amazing, Cas. Everything about you. And when I think about it, you need to be with a guy or girl that you can move in with. That you can build a home with. Someone who can give you two kids," Dean's voice broke. He stopped, realizing that the truth was harder to admit. "And I…fuck…" Dean swore under his breath, squeezed the tip of his nose and couldn't hold back the tears.

Cas slowly began to crumble. He reached across the table and collected the hunter's hand and squeezed. 'Dean, you shouldn't think like that."

"I can't give you kids, Cas," Dean said in the most pained tone ever. Their eyes met. "I've just realized that. Wow. The one thing a guy like you probably wants most in the world because you love pets and you love to care for others…I can never give you that."

"Dean…"

"I'm sorry. I feel so soft all the time. I'm not like this. I swear."

Cas literally squeezed the other man's hand so tight, Dean had no other choice but to look at him. And when their eyes connected, he felt what writers meant when they referred to love as a language separate from any other. How through the meeting of eyes, the one you love could communicate so much without speaking, nothing else mattered… All the doubts, all the pain he felt inside slowly slipped away when Cas gazed at him. And maybe when poets spoke about very few people finding the truest kind of love, they were referring to what the two of them shared.

"One step at a time," Cas said softly, taking Dean's other hand and entwining their fingers. "After we're married, there are ways that we can have children of our own. We can adopt. There are children out there who are eager to have a home. We will find two of them and love them as if we conceived them."

Dean nodded, and he smiled. "Sounds like a plan."

"Would you like a daughter and a son? Two daughters? Two sons?" Cas smiled back, his blue eyes mellow.

"I've always wanted one of each," Dean admitted, trying to memorize the lines on the other man's palms. "A son first. Then a daughter."

"Names?"

"Um," Dean bit his lips and chuckled, "how about Taylor for the girl. Robert or Jimmy for the boy. You know…after—"

"The vocalist and guitarist from Led Zeppelin," Cas continued. "I know who they are, Dean. As much as you've done extensive research on me to know that my favorite singer is Taylor Swift. I've looked up your interests. Like your secret obsession with Disney movies."

"What about your obsession with Hello Kitty?"

"You own a pair of Scooby Doo socks, Snow White PJs and Little Mermaid boxers."

"Shhh!" Dean glanced around nervously with narrowed eyes. "The whole room doesn't have to know. Dammit, Cas. Why were you going through my boxers?"

"I didn't. You were wearing the Little Mermaid boxers when I went down on you," Cas whispered with a teasing smile. "Or were you so completely lost in the moment, you didn't realize? What? It was so adorable, Dean. Please don't be ashamed."

The hunter ducked his head low and was blushing a deep red. "Can we change the topic?"

"Sure," Cas smiled and collected his milk shake. He sipped slowly. "So you want to have children with me. Is this the plan after we get married or before?"

Dean swallowed hard and literally felt as if his entire face was a burning ember. Many times he realized that nothing could slip by Cas. And his simplicity was always filled with so much more. A few words from his thoughts could really captivate Dean, to a point where he became a blushing mess.

"You talk about these things as if we're just talking about the weather," he pointed out with a small smile, reaching for his coffee and taking a generous gulp.

"You were the one who brought up the fact that you cannot biologically produce our offspring. However," Cas smiled a little, "if I had my grace, I could have inhabited a female vessel, and then we would have sex and –"

"No," Dean interrupted in a rusty tone, revealing conflicting emotions rippling through his body. "Cas, you're not…" he stopped, sighed as his eyes fluttered close and then he pressed his palm upon the table. "Look, simply put; I wouldn't have you any other way, okay? I've fallen in love with you just as you are. And physically, you're a man. It took me a while to get used to that but I allowed myself to see past that."

"So if I were a woman…" those blue eyes narrowed.

"Then we probably would have happened ages ago," Dean noted the confused look on the other man's face and immediately regretted his words. "I mean, it wouldn't have been a problem for me."

"So the reason why you never considered me before is because I'm in a male vessel?" Cas asked in soft tone, wondering why on earth something like that would matter.

Dean shrugged. "I don't think you'd understand. Hell, you're more open minded than I am."

"Then elaborate for me," Cas pleaded, hands wrapped around his milk shake. He spied Sam happily chatting with a little girl and her father and wondered if he was making progress.

"Do you really want me to say it?"

"Say what, Dean?" Cas stared back, utterly oblivious to the truth behind the conversation.

But the other man sighed. He shook his head. "There are some things that are just not considered normal for hunters. That's what my dad always taught us. When I was younger, he never and I mean never allowed any kind of softness from me. When I was more into arts and craft instead of basketball, my father came down hard on me for it. He used to always tell me that I was being a girl and he didn't have a daughter."

Cas' heart hurt from Dean's words. He wanted to hold his hand but dared not because the gesture might serve as a distraction. And maybe the conversation would end.

"Anyway, when I first started having feelings for you, maybe this was not too long after we met," Dean admitted for the first time out loud, even to himself, "I kept thinking that I liked you because you were a really interesting guy. Someone I could call a friend. And maybe because I never had friends before, not really, it felt alright. I didn't know what having a close friend felt like, so how I felt about you was considered okay to me." Dean tilted his head, eyes lowered as he played with a square of tissue.

"And then…it suddenly happened. Every damn time you got close to me, I felt awkward. I felt like if I didn't move away from you, then I would explode. It was weird," Dean shook his head and smiled. He bit his lips and glanced at Cas shyly. "What happened in Purgatory…do you remember?"

Cas thought about it. "Many things happened in Purgatory, Dean."

"Don't you remember when I was wounded, right here," Dean gestured in the middle of his chest, locking eyes with Cas. "And then when you tried to heal me, you touched me and I freaked out?"

"Wasn't that because you were in pain?"

"From the way my body reacted when you touched me, I was in pain," Dean confessed in an unsteady tone. "From that moment, I knew I was screwed. I was in love with a freaking angel. A man. Dammit, I lost it because I hated myself for falling in love with a man."

"Okay," Cas felt his heart squeeze from hurt. "That's why you admitted that if I was a woman, then you would have freely allowed yourself to pursue me many years ago."

"Yeah."

"Then does that still bother you, Dean?" Cas asked as his milk shake lost its coldness. Blue eyes searched emerald ones. "That I am a man physically? Is it a struggle for you when we're intimate?"

What was he supposed to say?

Was he supposed to lie about the slightly uncomfortable feeling that consumed him whenever he thought about sex?

He wanted Cas in so many ways. His body responded to those needs. But within his mind, Dean realized that he was still wrapped in a constraint. That he was still in doubt about a lot of things. Like them holding hands in public and not giving a damn about the stares. Like when he checked in at the motel and ordered a room with a single and room with a double and he gave Sam the key to the single. Even his brother had sent him a confused look.

Why the hell had he done it?

Cas had slept in his bed. But Dean kept fearing so much more. Like going further than a kiss or jerking each other off. Like knowing deep down inside that he really wanted to see Cas naked but for them to get fully naked together was something that he stupidly drowned in nervousness about. And why? Now, after Cas had asked him the very question that he had been asking himself, Dean wondered if he was at a crossroads and he needed to do some thinking in depth. That he needed to actually change a little more. And oh how he had changed enough already.

It was like unfolding and exposing his raw insides to the harshness of reality. Of rewiring his whole body just to facilitate the brutal change of what? Falling for a man? Had that been the ultimate queue of his destruction? Why he cried in bed before they kissed and collapsed into a cloud of depression?

For a while though, there was merely silence at their table. Even though their hands were inches apart, none of them touched each other.

Cas slowly dragged his fingers across the table and reached for Dean's curled up ones. But just as he felt comfortable once more from the anticipated connection between them, Dean surprisingly drew his hand away. And the simple display of his declination to initiate any kind of intimate contact seriously cracked Cas' heart, with parted lips he merely stared at Dean and wondered what was really happening to them all of a sudden.

Maybe he had said the wrong things. He always said the wrong things. Maybe Dean was having doubts. Cas thought that if someone he loved could refuse to touch him, then it was his fault. It was his tragedy. And for a long time the room around him faded away. The sounds were muted when Dean's chest heaved and he kept staring hard at the tissue in his hand, as if it was a difficult crossword.

"Can you talk to me?" he begged, his face contorting from emotions that he wished he could not feel. "Please tell me that you love me. That you see beyond me being a man. And everything else doesn't matter because we love each other with our hearts. Not our minds. Dean…"

"What?" the other man asked softly as tears filled his eyes and they finally looked at each other.

"Do you love me?"

"Of course, I love you," Dean said hoarsely, a strained expression on his face. "Why would you even ask me that?"

"Because right now I feel as if you don't," Cas blinked through tears. Reaching up, he pressed the back of his hand onto his right eye. He dabbed the wetness away, avoiding eye contact. Off all the times to have a heart to heart, they were in the midst of one in a public setting.

"Do you see what you're doing to me?" Dean croaked from across the table. He dabbed the tears away. "And you're honestly going to sit there and believe that I don't love you? Cas, you're killing me okay? I'm trying so damn hard to hold myself together right now in front of all these people."

"You never answered my question."

"Cas, I'm not doing that here."

"So I can't even touch you in public because I'm a man," Cas continued in a soft tone, his expression strained. "I can't even hold your hand, Dean, because you are afraid of what others might think of us. You're reminded of what your father taught you about being a man. And being a man does not allow you to love a man."

"Cas –" Dean tried.

"You are your own person now, Dean. You're not what your father wants you to be. You're not a child anymore and you need to stop thinking and feeling because when we make love, our genders don't matter –"

"Cas, please," Dean pleaded, wringing the tissue between his fingers.

"No, you should stop this right now. When we kiss, your body responds to me beyond what your mind tries to contradict," Cas continued as tears burned his eyes. "Please don't make me hate myself because I'm not a vessel anymore but I'm a man. Please don't make me wish that I had chosen a female vessel because I only want you to love me completely. Please, Dean."

For fifteen minutes, blue eyes kept searching emerald ones but nothing was said in return. Nothing. Instead, Dean's coffee grew so cold, he didn't even make an attempt to take a sip. Instead, he kept peeling the tissue into small pieces. He scattered them upon the table and was trying so hard to keep the tears at bay, his face had turned a deeper shade of crimson. His hands began to shake and he just wanted to disappear.

Cas on the other hand was so torn through the middle, he was struggling to breathe because they had been perfect an hour ago. They had been talking about having children together and choosing names. They were on the brink of broaching the topic of marriage when something changed between them. Something terrible happened. So tragic. He felt like a curtain had been brushed aside and behind it, there was the truth. That Dean was finding it difficult to see past his physical appearance as a man.

And now, they couldn't even look at each other and Cas wanted to cry. He felt so vulnerable in a public place.

"Do you want us to leave?" he asked Dean as the hunter was literally struggling to contain his emotions. Something was clearly bothering him to a point where he had left his coffee to grow cold.

Then suddenly, Sam returned with great news, a bright smile plastered on his face. "Success! The little girl over there lives on a farm not too far from here and her father doesn't mind if she could have the litter of kittens. I gave him the directions that you gave me," he nodded at Cas, "so he'll collect them as soon as they leave here." Sitting down slowly though, he carefully scrutinized his brother's lowered stare onto his coffee mug and Cas' uncomfortable demeanor.

"You two okay?"

"We're fine," Cas stated, looking at Dean for confirmation. But when none was given, he sighed and glanced at the taller Winchester. "I think we should leave."

"Um, okay," Sam was evidently worried at that point. "You two can head on back to the motel. I need to talk to Samantha Savory's boyfriend. Maybe he saw something. I don't know."

"I'll go with you," Cas said.

Dean suddenly found his voice. "Me too."

"No, you two obviously need some time alone, judging from the awkward silence and not being able to look at each other," Sam pointed out and frowned.

The drive to the motel was even more awkward. Cas rode up front with his brother but all the time Sam silently assessed their auras from the backseat. The inability to talk to each other. Not saying a word. The way Dean kept his expression stolid and focused on the road and his hands couldn't stay still. He kept fixing things on the dash. Fumbling with the music. Cas kept staring at Dean and the look on his face was just…too much for Sam even consider that everything was okay between the two of them.

"Look," the taller Winchester said as they hopped out the car at the motel and he went around to the driver's side, "whatever's going on between you two, you got to remember that you love each other. Don't let some small crappy thing come between you. I don't know what it is. But try to talk things through. You've come a long way. I don't want you taking a bunch of steps backwards. Kiss and makeup, alright?" he threw them one last glance before hopping into the car and heading off.

"Really, Dean?" Cas asked after he closed the door behind them and walked into room. The air smelt faintly of apples. Although the color tones in the room were of a mahogany brown, Dean's red plaid shirt made him stand out like the most beautiful thing in the scene. "You're giving me the silent treatment?"


	17. Unwind

A/N – I know that I haven't said anything for a long time. But thank you so much for reading this story and loving it as much as you all do. I'm glad that a lot of you see the way their relationship as realistic in this fic. That's what I aim for. Flawed and beyond beautiful. Hope this chapter refreshes you after last night's episode.

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Tossing his cellphone on the bed closer to the window, Dean shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the arm of a chair. He was so close to losing his mind, being so weak scared the shit out of him. Because his mind felt so fragile, and since he had collapsed after Cas walked out on him weeks ago, maybe he had been pretending that he was okay all the time. Maybe he had been skating on thin ice. Far from accepting the truth. Miles away from believing that he could get better, that he could push through this and survive.

"Dean," Cas approached the other man with tentative steps and after he realized he had nothing to lose at that point, he wrapped his arms around the hunter.

Immediately, Dean's body tensed up because when they were so damn close, when he could feel so much of Cas, he was reminded of his doubts. And he hated himself for feeling so doomed by his childhood. For feeling like if he was weak and less of a man because he loved a man.

But Cas wouldn't let go of him. He never could anymore. Instead, he pulled Dean in and hugged him from the back, reaching up and gathering the hunter's shoulders within his grasp to create a kind of shield. And when Dean leaned back into his warmth, Cas melted.

He boldly pressed soft kisses onto the other man's neck when Dean tilted his chin upwards, and those emerald eyes fluttered close. Cas wanted to shelter him. To prove to him that what they were, was beyond anything physical. Was beyond their imaginations. And maybe if they just held onto each other, then nothing else would ever matter.

"I love you," he tried again, this time as his warm breath kissed the other man's flushed neck.

Cas wanted to unhinge every part of Dean's resistance. He wanted to open him up and explore every single flaw. He kissed Dean's neck. Over and over again. Almost like the taste and the feeling was too blissful. Too thrilling. He could feel the hunter's chest heaving. And then suddenly he tasted salty tears. Tears that had trailed down the other man's cheek and onto Cas' lips. And when he realized that Dean was crying, he turned him around in his arms and hugged him.

They swayed slowly on the spot, like if their souls were dancing. Because physically, their minds weren't in the same room. Cas was floating so high above the chaos in their lives and the only thing he marveled over was the way Dean felt in his arms. So certain and dependent in his embrace. He was crying, sobbing into the crook of Cas' shoulder, wetting his trench coat and maybe…maybe Dean was emptying his fears and his doubts onto him. Maybe Dean trusted him so much that he leaked all his sorrow and pain onto the only person he loved so much.

Cas kissed Dean's right ear and ran pathways with his fingers through soft, dark tendrils. Feeling and not thinking. Knowing and not doubting. He could feel the hunter trembling in his arms. The way they fitted perfectly together as they kept holding onto each other. As Dean relied on his support and his comfort whilst he collapsed inside.

By the time he had drained his tears on the other man's shoulder, Dean felt so exhausted. He wasn't ashamed of crying. He wasn't ashamed of showing his weakest side to Cas because he loved him so damn much. But then when they parted from each other and he turned towards the two beds on opposite ends of the room, Dean felt terrible all over again. Because he wanted Cas to keep on holding him. He couldn't imagine himself falling asleep without the other man's warmth. And when he climbed into bed that night, Dean reached for Cas in the darkness of the room.

Through the soft glow of the moonlight cascading through the window, Cas came to him without his trench coat on. Slipping into the bed made softer by their love for each other and turning on their sides just so that they could talk until sleep came. And when Dean finally opened up to Cas, he revealed so much of himself, that gradually the tears came. There was so much he wanted to tell him. So much he had concealed so far. So being honest was a relief.

"I'm scared," Dean's voice was so hoarse from crying.

"Of what?

"You know…"

"Of me?" Cas' right cheek was pressed onto the palm of his hand as he gazed into emerald eyes that were soft from tears.

"No," Dean's chest heaved. "Of what people will say about us. Like, suppose they try to hurt you or me?"

"I'm pretty sure that a human can't hurt you at this point, Dean," Cas actually smiled. "You've fought all kinds of monsters and won. I'm a good fighter too. Violence is not something to fear."

"I keep trying to swallow the fears."

"Tell me about all of them."

For a few seconds, Dean merely looked at Cas and became lost in his eyes that were the same color of the sky as night crept in. A darker blue that also reminded him of the sea at night, not fighting against heavy winds but calm.

"What if you grow tired of me, Cas?" Dean asked, aching to entwine their fingers in the dark. "What if you start to wake up every day and you realize that I'm not what you wanted? Maybe as I start to get old and grey and I get wrinkles and –"

"I've loved you for over ten years," Cas reminded the hunter. "And not once have I ever lost interest in you. I might have left you. But I never stopped loving you. I've also loved you when you were at your worst. When you were wounded. When you were possessed by the Mark of Cain. When you were obsessed with Amara…"

"Cas…" Dean felt ashamed of that memory.

"When you warded Bobby's house from me after we fell out. When you trapped me in a ring of fire and left me. When you marveled over angel killing bullets…" Cas' blue eyes twinkled as he teased. "I've also loved you when you told me I was dead to you. So I'll never grow tired of loving you, Dean Winchester."

"Why do you always have to say things that make me so mushy?"

"Love makes you mushy."

A soft wind stole into the motel room through the pink blinds that barely fluttered. It slipped in and lightly kissed the lapels on Cas' trench coat. Then chasing the distance between the coat and the bed, the light evening breeze caressed their faces. But it could never dull the dust of color on the hunter's face. No.

"I've never been this soft with Lisa or anyone else, Cas," Dean admitted. "You know that. You've been there through it all. I've never felt so damn raw inside like I feel when I'm loving you. It's like my whole life, the world and my experiences kept breaking me. Now you're just reaching into my chest with your love and slowly taking out the shards one by one. And you're trying to put my heart back together."

"Oh, Dean…"

"How are you doing that, Cas?" the hunter asked in a tone so soft, he was barely audible. "How can you know when to hold me when I'm dying inside and you never choose to let go until I'm breathing again?" Tears leaked down his cheeks and onto the pillow. "How can you…do those things?"

Cas reached across the few inches between them and softly caressed Dean's soft, wet cheek. "Maybe it's because I'm the only one who has touched your soul tenderly like no one else ever has. I've been in your mind. I've been there with you in your weakest moments and I've studied you because I have loved you for years. I know everything about you except prior to when we first met. So how do I do those things? Those things come naturally to me."

Dean couldn't reply, He shook his head and swallowed back the tears.

"Remember when I asked you earlier if me being a man physically makes you uncomfortable?" Cas tried again, fearing that he might wound their bond. But he needed to broach the topic.

When Dean sighed though, his simple act of expelling his frustrated feelings on the topic was enough. "I've never been intimate with a man and there are things that I need to experience differently. Like I've been attracted to men before. But the idea of…screwing them. I never really went that far. I mean, you're the only guy that I've ever kissed and…done stuff with."

"Stuff," Cas smiled sweetly.

"You know what I mean," Dean blushed deeply and avoided eye contact. "Anyway, the whole idea of going down on a guy was never…Cas, can you please stop looking at me like that? It's not okay. Going down on a guy feels like I'm going to have to…Cas." Reaching across the few inches between them, Dean playfully squeezed the other man's left shoulder.

"You're so cute, Dean." Just when he believed that the hunter would never anticipate his gesture, Cas closed the distance between them by tugging Dean's hips closer to his. Now they were fitted perfectly together. And Dean's entire demeanor changed from scowling to blowing his mind wide open.

"Now I can't remember what I was saying…"

"You were elaborating on how you would go down on me," Cas grinned. "And what you would do with your mouth."

"Wow," Dean swallowed hard and blinked in disbelief. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"I am. But I'm also trying to make you comfortable with the idea of talking about sex. You seem to hold back your expectations. And I'm not just any other man, Dean," Cas slipped his hand into Dean's shirt and raked his fingers up the other man's smooth skin, the feel of muscles quite satisfying. "I'm yours. I would give you anything you ask of me."

"Can you kiss me?" Dean whispered although the room was as silent as a grave.

"You never have to ask." Brushing their lips together, Cas felt Dean's warm breath kiss his face as the hunter's parted lips expelled a sigh.

Their noses brushed affectionately and then tilting his head a little, Cas lightly sought out Dean, tasting a hint of coffee and whisky and realizing that he had slipped some into his cup at the café. And just as Dean had yearned to become mildly intoxicated by the alcohol, Cas longed to become captivated by their kiss. So much, that he reached for Dean's right shoulder whilst his fingers wrapped around the hunter's neck and he drew him in as close as possible. Just so that he could kiss him until he was breathless. Until he could witness those green eyes become vacant as Dean let go and drowned.

Cas realized that kissing Dean felt like sheltering inside a café on a rainy day, wrapped in a blanket with a cup of cocoa. Blissful couldn't quite describe how Dean made him feel. Instead, he preferred the word 'home'. Like returning to the bunker after a few days out on a hunt. Like finally being able to sit down and enjoy a decent meal without having to rush through things. Like standing under the shower and allowing the warm water to rain down upon him whilst he held his breath and imagined he was floating in the Loch in Scotland. Or he was sitting on top of the Eiffel Tower as he sun set, watching all the lights of the city flicker on one by one.

Kissing Dean made his heart sigh, his toes curl and his fingertips burn, yearning to touch and explore. To traverse the smooth skin on Dean's back. To feel his scars underneath his shirt and the ripple of his muscles as he moved into the moment. He was a very passionate kisser. The kind of kisser that didn't care about breathing between kisses. But he wanted to drown Cas until he gasped for air. And when Cas wanted to use tongue to explore, Dean allowed him because their connection was more than intimate.

By the time they were conscious of kissing each other for a long time, the inches that separated their lips felt like a crime. Dean couldn't fathom the possibility of feeling like that was his first real kiss. Everything about Cas felt new. Refreshed. Gave meaning to his life. And he wanted to know more. He wanted to touch him but he also wanted them to talk about things. To expound on things. He wanted to become brave enough to open up to Cas. To speak to Cas about his fears and to learn in the process.

"Dean you need to stop overthinking this," Cas finally said when he noticed that something was still troubling the other man. "Whatever we do together behind closed doors, no one has to know. No one will judge you."

"You might judge me," Dean finally admitted what had been troubling him since they were at the café.

Cas, however, frowned deeply. "I would never judge you. What are you referring to?"

"What if you don't like what you see –"

"Dean, stop it," Cas was growing slightly frustrated by the other man's inability to find himself beautiful. "To make you feel better, I have a proposition."

"Huh?" Dean's voice was so soft, almost as if he was losing himself. And when Cas rose from the pillow into a seated position, at first he was skeptical but then he followed. "Are you leaving? Please don't leave."

"I'm not leaving," Cas felt so soft inside by those words, and the pleading look in emerald eyes. He lightly touched Dean's right cheek. "I'll never leave you. I want you to become comfortable enough to trust me that I will not judge you. So…" when Cas slowly begun to unbutton his shirt, the dark material parting to reveal a slice of tanned skin, the hunter could only stare. "I'm going to…show you how I'm not perfect under my clothes. And I want you to do the same."

"You're…" Dean's eyes widened when Cas boldly shrugged off his shirt and draped it across the end of the bed. "Wow…you're so damn…" he was so stunned, he had no words. Instead, Dean let his fingers do the talking as he reached out tentatively and brushed the tips upon smooth skin that had been torn through by a bullet wound and had healed a good way but the scar still remained.

"Are you going to comply?" Cas asked, "or should I rip your shirt off?"

Dean blinked a few times and then he swallowed hard. He forgot how to breathe when the other man collected the top button between his fingers and boldly started to unbutton his shirt. And he wondered if Cas could be so mildly commanding, then what else could he anticipate? Would he reveal another side that Dean had never witnessed before? Would Cas really take control?

By the time all his buttons were undone though, Dean gasped when the material was brushed aside. He felt the cool air kiss his chest and wondered whether those blue eyes were pleased thus far or searching for something beautiful to like. However, from the moment he shrugged off his shirt, Cas seemed so stunned by what was underneath, his chest heaved. His lips parted a little and almost as if he was about to explode, Cas allowed his fingertips to barely trace the contours of Dean's heaving chest.

"Why on earth…" Cas began in a breathless tone, "would you even believe for a moment that I wouldn't like what I would see? Dean, you're…simply…beautiful. Every inch of you. You're beautifully toned and your scars…" when blue eyes traversed the marks of a few shallow cuts on the hunter's right hip, he understood immediately.

Dean was holding his breath, carefully studying every single change on Cas' demeanor to seek out the slightest form of judgment. But he discovered none. "I was low," his voice shook, "and I was in pain because of losing you. So I…"

"Oh my love…" Cas' voice was so soft, he brushed his cupped fingers over the wounds obviously made by a knife.

"I wanted to control my own pain. So, I had a moment. Well a few," Dean was stumbling, and he felt tears burning behind his eyelids. "See, I was drinking constantly so I was high," he confessed, lowering his eyes in shame, "and I was trying to…feel something other than my heart literally ripping into pieces. And now I regret it because the scars are ugly –"

"Your scars are beautiful," Cas interrupted, taking Dean's face into his grasp and lifting the hunter's eyes to meet his blue, intense gaze. "Every single one of them. But please don't hurt yourself again. If you ever feel like that, then talk to me about it. Do you understand?" He pleaded for reassurance.

"I do," Dean nodded, and he let out a long sigh, realizing that he had been holding his breath.

"Dean, every single inch of you must be so perfect. And I am so terribly sorry that we reached such a painful point where you felt compelled to harm yourself. Now this is my fault. I will never forgive myself for that."

"It's not…" the hunter bit his lips, lowered his gaze and slowly reached for Cas' hands. "It's not your fault. It's mine. Because if I had just…been open enough to see what was really happening between us, I could have done something about it. Instead I used too much energy doubting myself."

"Both of us did."

"Can you stay with me tonight?" Dean croaked in the dark, entwining their fingers and offering a pained look. Clearly he was trying to battle with his emotions all over again. But just from a simple touch, the meeting of their hands, he seemed to relax a little.

Cas smiled. He really had been hoping for the invitation. Most nights, sleep never came easily unless Dean was in his arms. "Of course I'll stay with you."

When both of them drifted into the deepest sleep merely fifteen minutes after, a light rain covered the town. And neither of them noticed that the window had been left open. They were on the fifth floor and with a clear view of the highway as vehicles rolled by, the two of them slept like babies. Dean's face nuzzled deeper into the smell of honey and cinnamon and Cas…Cas drowned in Irish Spring between the soft tendrils of Dean's hair.


	18. Insecurities

**A/N – Enjoy another chapter! I'm blessing you after last night's episode because we all deserve so much Destiel stuff.**

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When Sam delivered fresh cinnamon rolls and coffee the next morning to the room, he interrupted Cas from gazing at Dean's sleeping form.

Still he welcomed his best friend's intrusion which lasted briefly because the younger Winchester wanted to take a morning run. It was six thirty and both of them being early risers, barely complained about Dean sleeping like a baby on his ruffled bed.

"So after I talked to the boyfriend yesterday," Sam sipped his Chai tea and found the taste rather lovely, "he said that the night when Miranda didn't show, he distinctly remembered seeing a guy lurking across the street. And guess what? The description he gave me matches the looks of John McKinnon, the victim before Miranda."

"The shifter was still utilizing that form?" Cas frowned.

"Weird right?" Sam bit into his cinnamon roll and chewed. After coming into the room, it was so evident that Cas had slept in the same bed as his brother. The other bed was neatly made up. And he wondered if they were really okay, if the steam had been blown off or if things were still shaky.

"After Dean gets up, we can talk to the other victim's family."

"Kelly Richards?" Sam couldn't stop admiring how the other man kept gazing intently as his brother. "Well she's the first one. About four weeks ago, I figure. Maybe you two could check out where she worked and I could pay her mom a visit."

"Sam," Cas blinked at the older Winchester. "Just because Dean and I are a couple now, it doesn't mean that I wouldn't mind being paired up with you. And I'd like to."

"Great," Sam beamed at him and felt all tingly inside. "Hopefully he could let go of you though. Dude's been mushy ever since. He reminds me of a can of soup."

"Dean has been…going through a lot," Cas said softly, recalling the prior day's conversations between them.

Sam frowned though. "You two okay?"

"We are. We're just working through a few barriers."

"Like his inability to talk about his feelings and anything other than his looks?" Sam was teasing. "Truth is, he pretends to be shallow but he's deeper than I am. Dean would rather hide the truth than talk about it. But when he gets comfortable with you, he doesn't hold back. And I guess he's opening up to you and you're realizing that there are plenty of things you didn't know about him, huh?"

"I'm learning so much about him," Cas admitted. He sipped his coffee. "More than I've learned in the time we've known each other."

"Word of advice," Sam swallowed and licked his lips. "He cries easily when he has to talk about himself. And I don't mean this as something funny but if he cries, it means that he's breaking those barriers to let you in. It freaking hurts him to break his walls, Cas. Dean has locked himself inside so many layers over the years, sometimes I can't even get in. But you can. You always could. And when he cries, don't distance yourself from him. Hug him. Even if he fights you. Just…he loves cuddles."

"Thank you," Cas smiled. "I really appreciate that, Sam."

After the younger Winchester left, Cas sat on the window seat and stared for a long time at the morning traffic on the highway. The heavy trucks, the speeding bikes and the few persons that dared to cross. He also studied an owl who had drifted further into the maple tree just outside the window. And he wondered if perhaps the owl had built a little house inside the tree with a comfortably sized living room, bedroom and kitchen.

"Morning, darling," Dean's groggy voice greeted him a little while after as soft footsteps padded upon the floor.

Cas turned around and into a deep kiss that unearthed a low moan from both of them. "Good morning, my love," he said smiling into the kiss as Dean hovered above him and then stood up. "Did you sleep well?"

"I did," the other man yawned and stretched like a cat. "Did you?"

"Like a baby. Sam brought you a slice of apple pie and a coffee."

"Yeah?" Dean approached the table, lifted the lid on the box and beamed at the delicacy. He collected the coffee, lifted the lid and drank deeply, his emerald eyes fluttering close.

"After you eat and shower, Sam and I will visit the first victim's mother whilst you can check out where she worked," Cas noted the flicker of disappointment in the other man's eyes. "A factory that makes pies," he added. Slowly a grin spread across the hunter's face. "You're welcome."

"It feels good to be hunting again," Dean smiled from ear to ear and within ten minutes, he had slipped into the bathroom and was peeling off his clothes in glee.

Pies. Goddamn glorious smells of all kinds. Maybe he would be lucky enough to collect a few. Just a few. Nothing much. And they had a refrigerator in the motel room, so he could safely store them inside. But the most beautiful thing of it all was knowing that neither Sam nor Cas would touch his pies because he was the only one who savored the delicacy. He was the only one who loved pies.

Squeezing out just enough Irish Spring body wash, Dean absentmindedly lathered himself up as the heavy scent filled the red and white tiled bathroom. Come to think of it, maybe he could share his pies. Maybe he could introduce Cas to the best creation ever in the food department. Slowly though because Cas was still getting used to tasting food without the minute details of molecules. But he could ease him into it. Just as Cas had eased him into consuming triangular shaped peanut butter and jelly sandwiches whilst they spent time together in the bunker.

When he waltzed out of the shower though, swelling from pride after glancing at himself in the mirror and realizing that he looked damn sexy again, Dean found the bedroom as silent as a grave. With his hair sticking up and beads of water draining down his exposed torso, he stopped and searched for Cas. He wasn't on the window seat. Neither was his coat thrown over the chair. His shoes were missing and so was his phone. And instantly, Dean felt terribly empty inside.

He hated the feeling, of knowing that the absence of Cas had pulled half of his heart through the door. Of knowing that whenever they were separated now, the distance burned in his chest like fire. And maybe he still had doubts that would not surface between them. Even after they talked about very deep things the night before, Dean still felt somewhat unsure of the future. Because he kept fearing that Cas would run. From the moment he was exposed to the darkness inside of Dean, Cas would drift away.

So he went to the pie factory with half of his heart missing. As he questioned several workers who had known Kelly Richards, Dean kept wondering if Sam and Cas were talking about him. Maybe they were discussing what had occurred in the café the day before, how Dean would have rushed things between the two of them if Cas was a woman. How he had cried and exposed his flaws wide open. His wounds. Sam had always understood his wounds. But he didn't know whether to feel relieved or angered by the relationship his brother and the man he loved shared. Because before Dean had become so intimately involved with Cas, the other man used to always confide in Sam.

He cried on Sam's shoulder. He ran to him whenever he needed to be comforted. Because Sam had been beaten by depression and hurt and pain. His brother was the only one who could shelter Cas in those dark moments. Like when Dean himself had fallen down into a pit of nothing. Of feeling the worst kind of pain. Sam understood every second of not being able to breathe. Now as he made mental notes whilst talking to an elderly lady about Kelly's murder, Dean felt ashamed of himself for really questioning the bond between his brother and Cas.

"She never got too close to anyone," Jenny Jenkins frowned whilst sorting through many flattened boxes labelled and ready for the factory belt. "She always had her walls up and I kept asking her to at least go out with the others. Have a few drinks with them but Kelly never did. She was more invested in pushing people away than forming a bond, you know?"

Dean shrugged and avoided eye contact. He pretended to survey the factory as workers bobbed here and there along the assembly line.

"When she met that boyfriend though, she was lost in her own world. Used to make mistakes on the line. She worked in packaging like me. Right over there," Jenny pointed not too far from where they stood and her blue eyes saddened. "A few times she didn't fix the boxes right, and the pies slide right out during transport. Love does funny things to people."

"Tell me about it," Dean didn't realize he had voiced his thoughts until Jenny squeezed his arm. "I mean," he swallowed, "from what I've heard…"

"Honey, being in love is nothing to be ashamed of," the woman who reminded him of Angela Lansbury smiled, "it's the scariest feeling of all. But I'll let you in on a little secret. If it doesn't hurt or it doesn't make you crumble, then it isn't worth it. And it seems like you're having doubts."

"I'm that easy to read?" he asked in a softer tone, wondering where the hell the touch Dean Winchester had disappeared these past few weeks.

"You keep knitting your eyebrows like you're trying to sort through a million doubts inside of your mind," Jenny offered a sympathetic look. "Do you love her?" she asked in all sincerity as the hum of the assembly line filled the factory. The smell of pies couldn't even muffle his feelings at that point.

"I love…him," he corrected, appearing bashful and fearing her judging looking. But instead, when his eyes met hers, all Jenny had to offer as the softest look in return.

"Does he love you?" she wrapped an arm around his shoulder like a mother would comfort her son.

"He really does," Dean smiled and nodded, his eyes burning from holding back the tears.

"Then honey, nothing else matters," Jenny simply said.

"I'm scared that I'll lose him," he admitted, "or he'll leave me when he sees me for who I really am."

"When I first fell in love with my husband, I didn't know that he was a Russian spy," she confided in him as the bell rang throughout the factory signaling home time. "For months we dated and I loved him completely until I found out a year after that he used to be assigned to kill terrorists. When I found out though, I wasn't upset because of who he was. I was upset because he didn't tell me. And once you start telling each other everything, you wouldn't set yourself up for disappointments.

Love doesn't have boundaries, honey. That much has been proven to you so far. What love has is an endless space to welcome all the hurt, the pain, the fears and the doubts. I lost Terry two years ago," Jenny smiled. "But because my heart is filled with him, I can keep on living with just enough of him to get me through every single day. All you need to do is stick to it through the good and bad."

He hugged her.

At first, it didn't matter to him because the gesture came so easily. But then when she squeezed him back inside of her arms, Dean felt slightly ashamed of himself for clinging to someone. She didn't feel like a stranger though. Not really. Jenny felt like someone he could trust and could love. And when they exchanged numbers and she asked him to call her every now and again, he promised that he would because Dean really felt like they connected.

Maybe half an hour later when he was safely tucking the three boxes of pies she had given him into the backseat, Dean finally realized why he probably welcomed Jenny's comfort so easily. And when he remembered, he sunk into the front seat, pinched the tip of his nose, eyes shut, and he cried softly from missing Mary. In her last moments on earth, she was ready to embrace him for who he really was. For how he felt about Cas. And when he remembered the conversations, Dean missed her so much.

"_Yeah?"_

"_Yeah," Mary smiled, ruffling his hair as Sam tumbled around in the kitchen for spoons so that they could devour their bowls of chicken soup. "I need a confession."_

"_Mom, come on," he ducked his head and blushed deeply. "I'm not going to talk about that right now."_

"_You…love…him," she teased slowly, arms folded on the map table in the War Room. "It's just three words, Dean. But it means so much. And I want you to admit it to yourself."_

_After a while, he sighed because she couldn't stop looking at him from across the table. Sammy's tumbling had stilled and his footsteps padded upon the floor as he came towards them._

"_Say it, Dean," Mary glanced at Sam. "Thanks," she collected a spoon. "Go on."_

"_Say what?" Sam wanted to know, shifting his eyes to his brother._

_Dean, however, was trying to calm the butterflies within his chest. And after using the spoon to lightly caress the noodles in his soup, he inhaled deeply._

"_I…love him," he said softly, cleared his throat and dug his spoon into the bowl. _

"_You love who?" Sam fished. "Doctor Sexy? Dude everyone knows that by now." But when his brother simply would not confirm the statement, Sam silently wondered and wondered. And when his eyes met his mother's, a look passed between them until Sam was speechless. "Wait…Cas?" _

_Mary smiled back and sipped from her spoon. _

"_Like I said," Sam nudged his brother as Dean appeared constipated, probably fearing that he would be judged, "dude, everyone knows that by now."_

"_Really?" Dean stared at him in awe, "you knew?"_

"_Come on, man," Sam scowled. "like forever. You're always bickering like a married couple."_

"_Shut your face," Dean scowled back._

_Mary laughed as the two of them focused on their soups and pretended to hate each other._

Kelly Richards' mother kept pouring tea for both of them and offering up butter cookies, that by the time they left her house, Sam was having a tummy ache. Cas, on the other hand seemed warmed up like the teapot resting on the table.

"Dude, quit it, man," the younger Winchester scowled at his best friend munching on a few more cookies that he had nestled in the pocket of his trench coat. "I've had enough of cookies for a year."

"So," Cas chewed faster and ignored the comments whilst they walked to the diner to meet Dean for lunch, "Kelly was cheating on her boyfriend with Miranda's boyfriend…"

"Who is John McKinnon, the other victim," Sam had a headache from the links in the case. "So Kelly was the first victim, then we had John, then Miranda."

"Don't forget Eddie," Cas collected another cookie and began to nibble on it.

The younger Winchester sighed. "Eddie fell off a building on a construction site. Witnesses confirmed that he slipped so there's no foul play there. He's out of the picture."

"My head hurts," Cas complained in his gravelly voice.

"Hell, mine too," Sam shared the same feeling. "My belief is that the shifter has no connection to any of them. Just a random thing. And whoever the shifter is now, we just need to find out."

The two of them sat at a table in Nicky's Diner for almost an hour before Cas realized that something was terribly wrong. Dean hadn't showed up, he wasn't answering his phone and every single minute that passed by, Cas literally felt like he was dying inside.

"I don't get it," Sam frowned as the call went to voicemail again, "he said he would be here. He was on his way when we talked."

"Dean is never more than half an hour late," Cas mentioned, leaving his chicken puff untouched on the plate. He kept staring outside, anticipating the arrival of the Impala.

Sam sighed. He collected his V8 and sipped. "Maybe he's stopped somewhere to eat his pies. He said some old lady gave him like three."

Cas, however, was dangerously quiet beside him. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong and he could feel that somewhere between the distance he and Dean shared, something had happened. All the years that they shared a profound bond, Sam never could understand what that meant exactly. No one could except the two of them and most times, Dean failed to realize that wherever he was, and whatever he was experiencing, Cas felt the aftereffects like tremors from a natural disaster. Now, he was entirely certain that wherever Dean was, he was being tortured.

The pain. The way his heart squeezed from some kind of unexplainable bond that love had possibly created.

"We need to find him," Cas rose up from the table quickly and tried to fight the fear swelling up in his chest.

"Cas," Sam watched the other man rush towards the door and jogged after him. "Wait up, look," he caught up with him outside and tugged on his arm, "we need to think this through okay? The last place he had been was the factory but he was on his way here afterwards. I heard him driving on the phone. So…Cas…"

"Sam, I can't lose him," the other man's voice trembled and his blue eyes filled with tears. His movements were nervy, and he couldn't stay still. "Something's wrong."

"How do you know?"

"I can feel it," Cas' voice was strained. His eyes pleaded. "You may never understand but I'm connected to him. I know that wherever he is now, he's in danger and he's vulnerable."

"Okay, so can you sense where he is?" Sam hated that he was asking the impossible. Or what seemed like it.

But ten minutes after driving around the small town in a taxi, they spied the Impala tucked away down the back of a driveway and immediately the two of them leapt out. Cas leaded, but Sam feared that if his best friend allowed his feelings to cloud his judgment that maybe he would run into a dangerous situation without thinking rationally. That's why, as they neared the back of the house and found the dirt by the basement door disturbed by a scuffle, he took the lead.

The look that passed between the two of them presented so much fear on Cas' part, that Sam felt really deeply about the love between his best friend and his brother. He hated that they were in this kind of situation, bringing Dean's fears to life that on a hunt, something was bound to happen to one of them. And as he descended the steps into the musky smell of the basement, Sam hated that monsters existed in the world. He hated that they felt compelled to save people.

What they didn't expect to discover was Dean in the arms of what obviously was the shifter who had taken the form of no other than Castiel. He was pinned to the wall, and the two of them were kissing as if the world was about to end. Sam immediately aimed his gun but he threw a cautious look at the man by his side, wondering what the hell could be running through Castiel's thoughts. And when the shifter heard the click of the gun, it turned around and for a brief few seconds, fear crossed its blue eyes until those same eyes rested on the only other pair of the same shade in the space.

"Dean," Sam swallowed, "that's not Cas."

His brother seemed utterly confused, trying to blink away the scene before him. The zipper on his jeans was down too. Blindly, Dean tried to pull it up, feeling completely embarrassed and confused. And when he realized what had happened, Dean tried to find his gun but discovered that it was missing.

"Looking for this?" the shifter asked in Cas' same gravelly voice, and brandishing the gun out in the air like a showman. He smiled sweetly at the older Winchester. "I had it all planned out. I would sweet talk you into getting us into bed. Then I would screw you because I know it would be your first time with a man…" he laughed musically to the ceiling. "God, you're such a mess, Dean Winchester. You're so fucking weak."

"Hey!" Sam yelled, anger flashing in his eyes as he took brave steps towards the shifter. "Put the damn gun down. Now!"

"Oh, Sammy," the shifter clicked his tongue, and shook his head in disapproval. "Since I've been inside Dean's head, I've learned so much. Like how he's jealous of your bond with his boyfriend."

Cas immediately noticed that Dean was slumping against the wall, almost as if he had been drugged. Those emerald eyes gazed back into blue ones…dazed and filled with tears. Dean was ashamed. He was feeling entirely ashamed of what had happened, the state he was in and Cas feared that the shifter had taken something much more personal from him. Something intimate. Something that Dean was struggling to come to terms with. And when Cas suddenly felt the pain rise up inside of him as anger clouded his judgment, he acted impulsively, just as Sam had feared.

The angel blade sliced the distance between him and the shifter and in less than a second, found the back of the shifter's neck. But nothing happened. And feeling the penetration on his person, the creature cocked the gun, aimed it at Dean but before he could fire, Sam pumped four bullets into his skull, blowing the shifter's mind literally. And Dean, obviously shaken from the scene that had unfolded, crumpled to the floor and couldn't quite catch his breath.

"Dean!" Cas raced towards him, stooped and held the hunter's face between his hands. His blue eyes searched green ones. "Are you hurt?"

"Not…really."

"Did he…" Cas immediately wanted to know, imploring and fearing the worst. He lightly caressed the other man's right cheek and wiped away the tears.

Dean shook his head and avoided eye contact.

"Did he force you to –"

"No," Dean said softly. He swallowed and looked away. "We didn't go that far."

"Dean, I…"

"Just…" weakly pushing himself up, the hunter bit back the tears. "…let's get out of here."

Now though as they pooled into the car and Cas tried to hold him, he reflexively shrugged him off. Then huddling into a corner in the backseat, Dean's eyes leaked tears without shame because he was terribly confused.

He remembered receiving the phone call. They had exchanged such honest words. Cas asked to meet him and then they shared slices of pie together in the front seat. He couldn't remember what they had talked about because the trauma that came afterwards was too much to process all at once. The way Cas had come on to him so strong, he felt dangerously pleased and yet considerably fearful about the two of them going all the way. Touching him. Unzipping his pants. Jerking him off until he folded into defeat. And then, somewhere in between, Dean's brain was screaming for him to stop but he kept willing himself to go with it because he thought that it was just honest doubts. Doubts about his inability to go too fast because they had promised each other that they would take things slow.

Now, he folded away from the one person who wanted to hold him and protect him, he hated himself for the way he felt. He hated that bad things always happened to him. He hated that he was the vulnerable one who was easily targeted. And maybe if he kept down spiraling a little more, then all of this would be over too soon. And he wouldn't have time to regret any bad decisions or wonder about when they would crash and burn. Maybe he just needed to end it between them before they went too fast and too far. Before they got too invested in each other.

Dean refused to talk to Cas no matter how hard the other man tried to comfort him and Sam…

Sam watched with a heavy heart and tears in his eyes because he was quite aware of how his brother struggled to stay alive. Yet he had hoped that for once, Dean could have something normal that would last without any kind of interruptions. And now, he really regretted bringing the two of them out on a hunt. Dean had been right. You couldn't mix aspects of a normal happy life with a life of hunting monsters. Because just when you were weak enough to fall, a monster would slip through the cracks and take advantage. And that was what had happened to his brother.

"But he didn't do you anything," Sam was trying to explain to Dean after Cas had left the room and taken the Impala to fetch some groceries. They had decided to stay the next two days.

"I know he didn't, Sam," Dean gruffly said, staring at the television and hugging himself. "But I was so convinced…"

"That's screwed up. Man," the younger Winchester wiped his face and sighed, "the way the bastard just played the game so right, just right to fuck with your mind. If it offers you any consolation, I was in the same position a year back. When we were dealing with a shifter. It took Eileen's form and I was so convinced it was her. I slept with it."

Dean smiled after Sam's confession. "Good to know you just admitted you love her to me."

"Point is," Sam blushed deeply, "shit like that happens. And even though it was whacked and Cas knows what happened, he doesn't hate you for it."

"He doesn't know," Dean shook his head. Collecting the beer from the table, he sipped. Then he settled back into the chair and sighed. "We haven't talked about it since."

"How far did the shifter go with you?" Sam wasn't afraid to ask. After all, they shared everything. Well except for what happened between Dean and Castiel in the bedroom.

"Hand job," Dean cleared his throat and listened for the sound of the Impala returning. "Blow job too. I feel so violated. Dammit."

"Shit, can't you think of it as some other dude who screwed with you though?"

"No Sammy," Dean deadpanned. "Because I never wanted some random dude to jerk me off. The only dude I've ever wanted was Cas. And the damn thing used Cas to get to me. He screwed with my mind, man. I thought that…we were…I thought that it was him. It felt like him."

"But it wasn't him." Sam shrugged.

Dean stared at his brother. "That's not the point," he said flatly. "When you slept with the one that took Eileen's form, maybe you could have gotten over it easily because sleeping with her was what you craved for guiltily."

"And you don't want to sleep with Cas?" Sam was stunned, and he stared back at Dean in bewilderment.

Realizing that he had literally exposed his wildest fear to his brother forced Dean to freeze up. How simply the words had slipped out between them. He scared himself.

"Dean," Sam braced himself for one of their talks, possibly one that was long overdue. "Is that why the two of you were so prickly with each other recently?"

Sighing, the older Winchester gulped down his beer and rose from the chair. "I need something stronger. You game for Whisky?"

"Nah," Sam settled back in the chair and screwed off the cap on a bottle of water. He was silently wondering what Dean was about to confess to him. And trying as hard as possible, Sam muffled the assumptions.

Dean though, decided to down three shot glasses of the Jameson bottle resting on the mantlepiece before perching on the edge of the chair opposite his brother. Even then, he remained in a stiff attitude for some time before the light behind his eyes went flat.

"I'm scared, Sammy," he finally said when the Whisky burned away some amount of the doubt swirling around in his chest. "Of all of this. Of being with Cas. Of living this kind of dangerous life and losing each other. I mean, look what happened today. How long do you think he will put up with a shitty person like me?"

"First of all," Sam held up a hand and couldn't believe his brother's lamentations, "you're not a shitty person. Your life hasn't been easy at all and maybe that makes you stronger than anyone else I know. But Dean, you've been pushing through the pain and the hurt all these years. I don't understand how you could see yourself as anything less than a freaking hero. All this time, you've been changing and you've been hanging on. And I've been watching you, Dean. Being you isn't easy at all. And finding out that you have feelings for your best friend…" Sam shook his head and appeared stunned. "That's not easy."

"Thanks," Dean nudged Sam's boot and forced out a smile. "It's not easy to wake up and realize you're in love with a dude."

"So that's what's bothering you," Sam sent his brother a puppy look. "The fact that Cas is a dude."

Dean glanced away and hated that he couldn't talk about it easily. "I mean, I don't even know what to expect in terms of…you know. And it scares me because he's so open to anything and I try to allow his behavior to be contagious, but it doesn't seem as if I'm comfortable with the idea of going…further."

"This feels like déjà vu," Sam said softly, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his thighs. "Remember I had a friend in high school back when we were in New Jersey for a couple of months? Freddy?"

"The one everyone called Krueger?" Dean blinked and tried to still his heart. "Yeah I remember the kid."

"Well he was gay. And before you jump to conclusions, no he didn't have the hots for me but he was seeing another boy. I mean, at the time I didn't have any idea what it took to make out with another guy so Freddy and I spent our library time researching stuff."

"Really, Sammy?" Dean was impressed by his brother's open mind. "The two of you looked for books about sex?"

"Well it was not like I felt comfortable with it, but he was my best friend," Sam admitted softly. "And he was where you're at right now, terrified about sleeping with Dave –"

"Wait, hold up," Dean stared in disbelief, "Dave's…gay?" This was the same guy that had asked for their help on a case recently.

"Last time I checked," Sam smiled at his brother's expression. "What can I say, I have a few gay buddies."

"Explains a lot to be honest," the other Winchester teased.

"Anyway," Sam ignored his brother's directness, "I'll tell you exactly what I told Freddy back then. It doesn't have to do with biology when you're in love with someone. Women's first times are most times painful but it's part of nature. I'm not saying that it shouldn't be a big deal but it's something that comes second when love comes first. If you love someone, having sex with them is supposed to be about exploring each other's needs and being comfortable enough to go the extra mile."

Dean was sinking into the chair because he loathed sex talk, especially when he was an involving party in the discussion.

"Cas would never hurt you, Dean," Sam held his brother's gaze. "He would never do anything you didn't like and if you aren't comfortable, you have the right to say something about it. I'm not sure how far you two have gone but just as much as sex with a woman used to be a good experience for you, I'm pretty sure that the same applies to when you'll have your first time with Cas. Dude, for crying out loud, he's so in love with you and you're so in love with him, when the feelings take over, you're not even going to be conscious of anything else."

For a long time, Dean sat there and mulled over Sam's words. He absorbed them and treasured them and his brother even more, because he understood how uncomfortable the conversation must be. But Sam cared about him more than the feeling of being uncomfortable.

"I don't think I have to explain to you how going all the way with a guy works," Sam considered Dean's demeanor and frowned over the constipated look. "Like what goes where."

"No," the older Winchester shook his head and rolled his eyes. "I know what goes where. But does it have to get that far?"

"Huh," Sam thought about it and shrugged. "Depends on what the two of you want."

"I don't want…that…" Dean sounded so soft.

"That's the fear talking."

"Sam, it's like my first time all over again."

"And wasn't your first time memorable?"

"Yeah but I wasn't on the receiving end…"

Sam was impressed. "So, you are a bottom, aren't you? I knew it!" He pounded the air with his fist and beamed at his brother.

"Dude, I'm not. I'm just saying…" Dean sighed. "Look, forget it." Curling up on the chair, he scowled at the window.

"No, look, okay," Sam suddenly hated himself for cracking a joke in the most awkward time of their conversation, "fine. I'm sorry that I assumed that. Geez, why the hell would I even joke about that. I know that you're not taking this lightly."

"I'm not," Dean sounded wounded. He hugged himself. "I'm just trying to say that when the time comes, it will happen. And like you said, I shouldn't worry about it too much because how I feel will take over and it wouldn't be uncomfortable. But I don't know why I feel so weird out about it. Like it's something big…"

"Dean, it is something big," Sam's eyes widened. "And maybe this is affecting you so much because it's not a one-night stand. Your first time with a guy will be with your best friend. You're probably more frightened about not doing the right thing or not knowing what to do. And then you can't run away afterwards because the two of you are in a relationship. But Dean, I'm pretty certain that Cas would never judge you."

"But Sammy, what if he sees me under my clothes and he realizes that he doesn't want me anymore?"

"Dude, has anyone ever turned you down because of your body?" Sam was being blunt. He stared back at his brother and wondered how in the world Dean could ever be so insecure about his looks. "You're freaking handsome. Since I was younger, I always told you that you pulled all the good looks from the womb. Man, look at yourself in a mirror. Cas would never turn you down. And besides, over the years when Cas and I talked, he always marveled over how you are most attractive human he has ever met. Sometimes I used to get jealous because I'm sitting there like, hey, I have the flawless hair." To place emphasis, Sam raked his fingers dramatically through his locks.

Dean, on the other hand, sighed. He studied a moth fighting behind the window glass and wondered if his heart was trying to fight through the walls he had built up.

"Thanks, Sammy," he finally said, arms folded.

His brother shrugged. "It's my lifetime duty to pull you up and look you after. Just as much as you always do the same for me."

"Do you think that Cas would still like me if he knew about my past though, Sammy?" Dean suddenly asked, his voice so wounded that Sam had to fight to stay focused.

"Which part of your past, Dean?"

"The part where I tried to kill myself two times and you had to save me," Dean swallowed and yet he couldn't make eye contact. "Remember that?"

"How could I ever forget?" Sam stared at his brother and worry was beginning to seep into his chest. He suddenly realized that after all these years, Dean really never healed from the tragedies he had experienced. "I think that he would want to love you more because of it. I think Cas has already seen a lot of you to be honest, Dean. More than you realize. And I think that he's prepared himself to love you all the way for years now. He's been doing it for years now."

"I'm just…" Dean groaned, fists clenched.

Sam waited. "Someone who deserves to be loved?" he said eventually.

His brother gazed at him for a long time without speaking. His chest was unfolding like a flower in bloom. He sat back and blinked several times as if processing what Sam had reminded him of.


	19. Nervousness

"Remember how dad left me in the hospital and drove away and I had to call you to find out where you guys were?"

"Dean, don't…" Sam could literally feel the pain inside his chest from the stirring up of memories that could never be erased.

"He told me that I was born wrong," Dean continued in an almost dead tone. "That I was weak and I'd always be weak. That he didn't have a daughter. He had two sons. And…" Dean stopped when he heard the rumble of the Impala's engine just beyond the window.

Cas had come back. And he wasn't prepared to face him. Not now. Not when he was in this state.

So, detaching himself from the edge of the sofa, he picked himself up and sighed. "Guess I'll just lie down for a while."

"Come on, Dean," Sam complained with a frown, "sooner or later you'll have to talk to Cas. You can't keep shutting him out. He wants to love you regardless of your past or your trauma. Let him. For once in your life, Dean, let someone in completely so that they can make you feel like you deserve to be happy."

"I'm tired," the older Winchester said halfheartedly, then after he peeled off his black leather jacket, he collapsed onto the bed and closed his eyes. Listening though…listening for the door to open. And when the lock turned and there was the rustle of plastic bags, Dean barely opened his eyes enough to spy Cas coming in, his trench coat spotted from drops of rain.

Cas sighed, lifted the bags onto the table. The weather was indeed frightful. The Impala drove smoothly but the smell of pie in the car had nauseated him to a point where he rolled down all the windows and a light drizzle ended up wetting the car seats. Then for half an hour, he had meticulously wiped the moisture from Dean's fine leather coverings. Now, as Sam approached him, he pulled out a V8 and handed it to him.

"You're the best," the taller Winchester said lovingly, patting Cas' back. "Best brother-in-law."

"We haven't tied the knot as yet," Cas frowned at Dean's form stretched out on the bed. "How long has he been sleeping?"

"Uh," Sam decided to reveal the truth, "he's not sleeping. Just pretending to be. Dude, did you buy Twizzlers? I love those!" pulling out the packet, he ripped the top off, yanked out five and started munching on them like a big kid.

Cas carefully retrieved a plastic container containing a turkey sandwich and can of orange juice. Then he slowly approached the bed, sat down upon it softly with a worried look upon his face. "Dean, I brought you something to eat. You didn't have lunch. And you need your strength."

"Noo," Dean rolled over on his side, presenting his back to the other man. "I'm not feeling well."

"I know you aren't, babe," Cas reached out and squeezed the hunter's shoulder affectionately. "But you have to try."

"Come on, Dean," Sam protested from across the room. He chewed on his Twizzlers. "Do it for Cas. He went out to get something for you to eat. The least you can do is show some appreciation, man. Besides, if you don't eat the damn sandwich, I will."

"I brought you a vegetable salad," Cas gestured at the bags on the table. Most times, he felt so soft inside after caring for the two brothers. Like right at that moment, Sam's eyes shone with the warmest glow of affection and it was something that Cas treasured inside his heart.

"You're freaking awesome. If Dean doesn't marry you, I will. I swear." And yanking the container from inside the bag, Sam collected a plastic fork, then settled in front of the television.

"Can you try," Cas said in the softest, most caring voice as he lightly ruffled Dean's hair. "For me?"

"How can you still care about me even though I'm being so mean?" Dean's voice cracked. He rolled over onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. "Dammit, Cas, I hate myself for trying to push you away because you keep coming back."

"I'm supposed to come back," was all the other man simply said. "Nothing else makes sense to me except you. You've pushed everyone away, Dean. But you're not going to get rid of me that easily. I'll be here when everyone else is gone, remember I once told you that?"

"You're human now," Dean pointed out as he sat up with a groan. "One of us will have to die first."

Cas opened the container, rested the sandwich on the hunter's lap and then he handed over the juice. "Let's not talk about death."

"Why?" Dean sipped some of the orange juice and weakly picked up the snack. "You can't face the fact that it will happen eventually?"

"I saw a unicorn in the minimart and thought about you," Cas swerved away from the topic. He smiled. "How you hate unicorns when you're exactly like one."

"How am I like a unicorn?"

"You're full of rainbows, extinct and so full of pride."

"I'm not the cover boy for a freaking gay parade," Dean scowled. He bit the sandwich and chewed, enjoying the morsel just as much as he should be after going without food for more than a couple of hours. "You're more like a stuffed unicorn. You're so soft. You give the best squishy hugs. And you're not ashamed to be who you are. In fact, I think you're more acceptable of your sexuality than I am."

"I don't care about my sexuality," Cas simply said, glancing at the television and remembering the movie Sam was engrossed in. It was 'A Walk to Remember' with Mandy Moore. "I have no sexuality," he admitted. "I'm just in love with one person and that's you. There was never anyone else. Maybe I'm…Deansexual."

"Huh," the hunter pondered on the label. "Which makes me what?"

"A bisexual rainbow-colored unicorn."

"I'm not a…"

"Guys come on!" Sam yelled, rearing his neck to glare at them, "I'm trying to look at the freaking movie. Why don't you two just take a walk."

"Hey this is our room, in case you haven't remembered," Dean pointed out. "Giraffe."

"Be nice," Cas patted his arm, smiling. "He's right. Let's go for a walk. Just you and me. We can sit outside and look at the stars and the moon. It's full tonight."

Dean was about to protest but after considering those mellow blue eyes, he gave in completely. Although dreading the time they would spend together alone, he wanted some fresh air.

Cas probably had other motives, like squeezing the truth about that day's events out of him, but Dean remembered that he couldn't get away from expelling anything. Eventually they would have to talk about it. They would have to talk about a lot of things. And if he couldn't stop moping around, then everything would just get worst.

Cas was so gentle with him though, Dean felt like he didn't deserve any of it. Like he wasn't worthy of the way Cas helped him into his jacket, or when Cas opened the door for him. Or when he smiled the sweetest smile that reached his loving blue eyes. All of those honest gestures filled Dean with so much guilt, he wondered if he would ever be able to forgive himself for the fuck ups, for pushing the love of his life away, for even thinking for a second that Cas would walk out on him.

And when the two of them found a bench overlooking the highway in the distance, just under the swaying branches of the maple tree with its only resident being a large white owl, Dean felt like he was undeserving of a man so full of love.

"I'm sorry I pushed you away today," he admitted when they sat down next to each other, their thighs touching. "I was kind of…confused by everything. You know, I honestly thought that it was you, Cas."

"I know," the other man took up Dean's left hand and entwined their fingers upon his lap. "Are you ready to tell me what happened?"

"I might never be ready, but I have to try," the hunter stared at a red truck roaring down the highway loaded with logs. He wished that everything was simpler. But then nothing about love seemed simple.

"If you aren't ready, then you don't have to," Cas squeezed Dean's fingers.

After a while, those green eyes focused on the round moon above the trees and he tried to exhale the worry, the pain and the nervousness. Why was he nervous? Dean was really constantly fearing that he would screw it up. That he would push and push and push until Cas walked away. But so far, Cas kept holding onto him tighter. And because he kept holding on, he was proving to Dean that maybe all of this was worth it.

"Cas, do you ever feel like something's wrong with you?" he asked in a hoarse voice, gazing at their entwined hands. "Like you've made the worst decisions and you've done all the bad things. And you're not worth it?"

"I do. Often," Cas confessed. "But then I keep remembering that my best decision was loving you. At least I've done one good thing in my life. And you're worth it."

When those words drifted from the other man's lips, Dean honestly felt like he was melting into the bench. His heart simply became so mushy, he couldn't even breathe properly.

"There you go saying the right things," he shook his head and smiled. "Dammit, Cas."

"You do realize that I'm going to counter every bad thought that comes out of your mouth, right?" Cas smiled back and nudged Dean's shoulder. "I'm going to keep trying to prove to you that you're worth it."

Dean actually felt a little better after falling so low. "Maybe that's why I fell in love with you."

"Why?" Cas teased.

The wind gently lifted strands of the hunter's hair. "Because you always believe in me when I don't even believe in myself."

Sliding his arm behind Dean's back, Cas drew him in closer and wondered if he would ever come to terms with his beauty. The way his soul radiated with so much wonderful colors. Hugging Dean was like holding on to the best feeling in his entire life. Like knowing that what he felt was bliss, but believing that it was everything else as well.

"He just used his hands all over me, Cas," Dean said after a while. By then he had rested his head onto the softness of the other man's right shoulder. "In places I only want you to touch. And I feel so violated knowing that it wasn't you."

"Well thank goodness the assbutt is dead," Cas said, pulling the hunter into his arms a little more and nuzzling his face into the crook of Dean's left shoulder. "It seems like every monster out there wants my boyfriend. But they can never have him because I have him and I'm the luckiest man in the world."

"Cas…"

"Dean…"

"Can you stop making me fall in love with you all over again?" Dean bit his lips and those emerald eyes fluttered close.

Cas turned his lips onto the other man's neck and kissed him softly. Dean's skin was warm upon his lips. He could feel a pulse, faintly. And although he fought with the feeling of desire welling up inside of his body, there was nothing that could stop him from at least tasting Dean's skin, feeling how his pores were excited. And how he melted under Cas' touch.

"Can you stop making me want you in so many ways?" his warm breath sent slivers of electricity racing through Dean's body. "I just want to take you to bed right now and make love to you all night long…"

"Cas," Dean pleaded, literally feeling himself growing hard just from those simple words. He had to remind himself that his body reacting the way it did wasn't an ultimate sin. It could be a beautiful change.

"I'm just reminding you of what my dreams are like every night. And when we do end up there, I'm going to prove to you how beautiful and special you are to me." Cas smiled.

Choking on memories of the conversation he had with Sam earlier, Dean remained silent. Perhaps he should at least talk to Cas about his fears. But then, wouldn't that be somewhat embarrassing to admit? To elaborate on how he was what? Afraid of having sex with the man he loved the most in the entire world?

It was literally something Dean felt so ashamed of, he couldn't even welcome the idea of fueling the conversation. And because he couldn't talk about it, he sat there in Cas' arms and felt so freaking confused and raw inside.

Every moment that Dean slipped into silence, Cas felt empty inside because he wanted the other man to talk to him. He wanted Dean to trust him a little more every time so that they could discuss anything; the good and the bad. And when Dean refused to open up, Cas felt like he was failing their relationship somehow. He felt like he wasn't doing the right things or providing the right amount of space to allow trust.

"Dean, are you regretting this?" he decided to hit the weakest spot.

"What?"

Cas swallowed hard and decided to bravely dive in. "Us. Being together."

"No," Dean croaked, feeling his heart painfully sink in his chest. "Why would you even think that I'm regretting this?"

"You're giving me too much silence to fill with doubts," Cas said gently. "And my doubts are scaring me because I keep feeling like I'll lose you. And if I lose you then I'll lose myself."

"What do you want me to do, Cas?" Dean struggled to sound composed. "Do you want me to tell you every single thing that goes through my head? Because trust me, you don't want to know my darkest thoughts or what my demons are always saying. If you could only know who I really am then you might run far away from me."

"You do recall that when I raised you from hell, I touched your soul?" Cas' blue eyes met emerald ones. "And I felt every single crack from your past. Like the countless times you tried to end your life because of your father's disbelief in your worth. Or the many times you felt like you wanted to run away and never look back because your life wasn't yours to live."

"How could you…" Dean's eyes leaked tears and yet…Cas pulled him nearer. Holding him as if he was the most precious thing in his life.

"Every time you suffer a traumatic experience, it leaves a crack on your soul. And your soul was torn in many places, Dean," Cas explained in a worried tone. "It wasn't just from the torture in hell. But from the trauma in your past. And I saw everything that you went through. So when you're silent and you're trying to hold back the truth from me, I feel like you don't trust me enough to know the truth anymore."

"I do trust you," Dean said in a pained voice.

"Then why are you putting up a wall between us?"

"Because…" Dean lowered his eyes and tried to control his breathing, "it's not easy for me to talk about certain things. I keep thinking that the moment I tell you everything, you're going to think that I'm not worth it. You helped to bring me out of that dark place, you know? But it's not easy to talk about certain things with you because those things involve you and I'm just ashamed of how I feel about them."

"Dean, if you can't talk to me easily then we need to fix that," Cas stated as the traffic rolled by on the highway and the leaves in the trees rustled. "Right now."

"How?"

"Do you have your cellphone with you?"

Dean frowned. A leaf the color of maple syrup fell onto his lap. He picked it up and avoided eye contact. "Yeah, why?"

Cas pulled out his mobile. "Take yours out. Go on."

"Why, Cas?" Dean was puzzled.

"Since we cannot say the words face to face, I want you to send me a text. And I'll send you one as well with one thing that I'm most afraid of in terms of you. Are you willing to try that?"

Dammit. Leave it to Cas to find some miraculous way to get them through the darkest storm. Really? Every single time he seemed to dip low on the 'I'm pretty okay' scale, Cas swept into his space and covered him in a blanket of anxiety and anticipation and nervousness. And all the freaking things that could make his heart quiver from the unexpected.

Dean nodded although he was terrified. "Sounds…okay to me."

"Turn around so that we're backing each other," Cas smiled a little as he tried to maneuver the other man on the bench by taking a hold of his shoulders and Dean complied awkwardly. "Great. Now type in the box whatever is troubling you about me, and when we're both finished, I'll count to three and we will click SEND. Are you ready?"

"Okay," Dean swallowed hard, his fingers resting on the screen of his phone.

"Go," Cas' eyes rested on the parking lot where Baby was sleeping just for two seconds, his forehead creased. And then he started to tap away on the keys.

But Dean…well he was somewhat struggling to begin the actual process of expelling his thoughts into a little box on his phone. So he sat there for a while, mulling over things until his heart started to scream for him to take the leap whilst his mind tried to stop him.

Little by little though, his heart won because it was filled with so much love for Cas, the belief in making things work between them that he didn't want to be stuck anymore. He wanted them to settle. To become so comfortable with each other that nothing in the world could come between them.

And so…he began to type. He typed two sentences and then a third. And when he pondered on the words in the box, Dean continued onto a fourth line.

"Are you done?" Cas finally asked when ten minutes had slipped by.

Dean felt like he was about to die from the confession but if they were to break the wall between them, then the words had to be sent. "Yeah, I'm done. You?" he was really curious to learn what Cas was afraid of telling him face to face.

"Yes. On the count of three. One…two…three. Send."

Both of them clicked SEND, holding their breaths and when their phones beeped at the same time, Dean felt like he was about to explode. He couldn't undo anything now. He was literally hanging off a cliff, ready to fall into the depth of anything at that point because there was no turning back. As much as he tried, he couldn't anticipate Cas' reaction and most of all, everything would change between them now.

Their phones beeped from the incoming messages and Cas' thumb immediately clicked on the box. Dean, on the other hand, waited two seconds then he opened up the text.

As the wind swirled around them, chasing thoughts and leaves and trying to scatter hope here and there, the two of them stared in disbelief at their phones.

Dean was holding his breath as he kept reading the words over and over again. As he tried to find the part that didn't hurt the most between Cas' words. But every single line stabbed him in his gut because maybe being distant at times provided Cas with enough room to doubt his worth.

_**Dean, I'm afraid that one day you will leave me to be with a woman because you want everything that is normal. A normal family with a wife. Kids also. Normal means no judgment. No hiding. It's easier than being with me. **_

Cas on the other hand was stunned beyond expectation when he read the sentences on his phone screen. Never, would he have expected something so powerful from Dean. Something that he had never been worried about and yet, here between them, Dean had emptied out his worst fear with such innocence, tears glistened in Cas' blue eyes.

_**If I'm going to come right out and say it, then what I'm most afraid of is experiencing my first time with you by going all the way. That's right, I'm talking about sex because this wouldn't be like any other experience I've had before. I'm going to be taking off all my damn clothes and making love to my best friend who will not be leaving me in the morning. And if I screw this up, then I don't think I'll ever get over it. **_

"Dean," he said softly, and he bit his lips to hold back the tears.

"Yeah," the other man's chest heaved. "Dammit, Cas, you're going to me cry."

For a while, Cas tried to take deep breaths so that he could compose himself enough to proceed. He was certain of one thing; that the only way forward was to break the ice. So collecting his thoughts, he turned around on the bench and rested his chin upon Dean's left shoulder. And when he read his own text on the hunter's phone, Cas felt his worst fear come to light again, like pulling open a closet door and allowing the demon inside to slip out.

"If it makes you feel any better," he said as the other man remained silent, "I've never had sex with another man either, so we will both screw up together as we're screwing each other."

"Wow," Dean actually laughed. He pressed his fingertip to the corner of his right eye. "You're unbelievable, Cas."

"I hope that's what you'll say to me when I'm done with you in bed."

"You just can't help it, can you?" Dean turned around and connected their eyes as he smiled in disbelief. "You're always dishing out these lines so smoothly. It's almost as if you're a natural tease."

Cas rubbed their noses together and chuckled. "There, now that you've told me your worst fear, how do you feel?"

There was nothing prickly inside of his chest anymore. Dean smiled and inhaled deeply. "I feel better knowing that you know."

"Good," Cas kissed the other man's lips softly. His eyes fluttered close and he just held him, so intimately in his arms like Dean was a delicate flower. "I'll always treat you like you're the most special thing in my life because you are. But you and I both know that once we take off our clothes in bed, we'll be very demanding. So I'm not certain why you're afraid of our first time."

"Cas…"

"I'll stop then," Cas collected Dean's mushiness into his arms and held him so close, he could feel the other man's heart beating wildly in his chest. "I apologize."

"You don't have to," Dean said softly.

But Cas gazed at him lovingly. "I promise that whenever we make love, I will be as gentle as possible with you, Dean. This will be a learning experience for both of us and it's something that we need to work on together. Please, I don't want you to be frightened of me…"

"I'm not…" Dean sighed and tried to control his breathing. "Cas, I'm not scared of you. I trust you with all my damn heart, okay? I'm not saying we can't…do other things…"

"Really?" Cas nuzzled his face into the hunter's shoulder and chuckled. He wrapped his arms around Dean. "If I must be truthful, I'll admit that my mind wandered several places."

"Like where?"

"Like I want to taste what's inside your pants again –"

"Cas!" Dean scolded, running his fingers through disheveled hair and pressing the other man's face deeper into his shoulder. "Dammit. It's like you know exactly what you're doing to me and you just…go ahead and screw with my mind."

"But you need time…" Cas' words trailed off.

Sure, he needed time. Time for the dust to settle and the memories of a shifter taking the form of the person he loved the most to fade away. He wished that he wasn't always so easy to prey on. Monsters and demons felt that he was the weakest link. Over and over again. And sure Sammy took some good enough punches over the years. But Dean had been caught in some pretty nasty situations that resulted in a lot of damage, damage he could never fix but had to learn to live with.

"I'm not going to leave you for a woman," Dean said suddenly, breaking the ice a little more between them.

"Hmm."

"Cas," Dean croaked, gently turning the other man's face so that their eyes met as he pleaded his case, "look at me, okay? I'm not. I'm going to make this work. You and me. And Sam. We'll find him a wife and we'll make our own happy family together. And we'll have kids, Cas. We both want 'em and we'll find a way to have at least two."

"Are you sure?"

"Am I sure of what?" Dean offered a confused look.

Cas appeared so saddened all of a sudden, he cracked the other man's heart. "Are you sure that you'll be able to commit to us? How can you be certain that if a woman walks into your life tomorrow, and she's beautiful and can make pies and she cooks for you, that you wouldn't start loving me less?"

"Don't," Dean shook his head and felt his chest ache from how wounded Cas appeared in his arms. "I'll never love you less. I'll only love you more. And if a woman comes into the picture, hell, I don't think I'll ever want her in the ways I want you. You're so much more than any random person that comes along because I've known you longer. And Cas, to be honest, they're never going to get through my walls as you do. You're the only person apart from Sammy that I let in."

"Okay, Dean," Cas simply said, smiling and cupping the hunter's face in his left hand. "Can we go back to the motel room now?"

Believing that both of them were severely fatigued from the recent events, Dean trailed the same path they had trodden before and felt somewhat lighter. Not quite. But mostly. Cas still had doubts. He didn't realize the depth of the other man's fears but apparently he had been convinced that someday Dean would run into the arms of a woman.

Why though?

Why would Dean chase after someone else when he had literally lived through a transformation that almost killed him? A transformation that broke him into tiny pieces just so that he could fix himself back together in order to love a man who was still questioning him.

But he had been doubting what he had formed with Cas too, wasn't he? Not too long ago, Dean had actually considered the tragedy of ending their relationship because he couldn't burden Cas with his traumatic soul. He couldn't pin him down like a butterfly and expect him to bloom. He wanted Cas to flourish. To…stop having doubts and to stop loving a man who was flawed beyond understanding.

Cas understood him though.

When Dean stepped over the threshold and into the depths of the room dimly lit from the yellow lamp by the window, something beautiful happened.

Taking Dean's hand firmly into his, Cas tugged the hunter into the room and pulled him into a kiss so passionately initiated, the connection knocked the hunter out of his mind. And as he sought to find his balance, Dean's mind spun out of control from desire swelling in his chest and travelling through his body. Because Cas was demanding. He knew what he wanted and he sought it out without questions. And maybe that's why they were so damn perfect for each other because when he couldn't manage to make the right moves, Cas jumped in first.

Cas kissed him like the world was about to end outside of the motel.


	20. Exploring

Cas walked Dean backwards until the back of the other man's knees hit the edge of the bed and both of them fell onto the soft blue sheets laughing into each other's parted lips.

"Really?" Dean marveled over their positions. "You love topping me, don't you?"

Pressing their foreheads together, Cas bit his lips and smiled. He rubbed their noses together.

Dean, however, was in dire need to prove that he still had some amount of control. So, he tilted Cas' head to the side gently and sucked on the softest spot on the other man's neck, willing to leave a mark.

Then their eyes grew deeper as they searched and found that light of hope once more. And as they held onto that feeling, Cas, after capturing Dean's face tenderly between his hands, he kissed him slowly and softly.

The hunter's moans filled the air, low at first. And then those sounds were like music to Cas' ears as he kept on teasing by grazing his teeth along the other man's jawline. He was incredibly gentle with Dean though. He used every second to cover many more inches over the hunter's neck and shoulder until all the fear faded away and still…Cas' main aim was to make their love making an experience that would soften Dean's estranged mind.

"Do you want me to stop?" Cas asked as his warm breath kissed the shell of the hunter's right ear.

"No. Just…" Dean gulped as his green eyes squeezed shut, "don't go all the way until I'm ready."

Cas connected their eyes and frowned. "Of course, I wouldn't dare do that unless you are ready."

He straddled Dean's hips, and with their lips seeking a deep kiss again, Cas ran his fingers through the soft feel of the other man's hair. Wanting and knowing what he wanted. Tasting apples and beer and feeling every single shudder from Dean's body.

The experience was indeed a blissful one. Slow and torturing. Because he wanted Dean so much. He wanted to take off his clothes and let his eyes roam across every inch. Every ripple of muscle. Every scar. He wanted to kiss those scars and to taste Dean in his mouth, but they couldn't rush things.

And because he couldn't go all the way just yet, Cas just kissed the love of his life tenderly. He kept their bodies flush against one another, and he savored as much as he could feel through Dean's clothes. How hard he had grown in his pants, straining against the fabric. How he breathed into Cas' neck as he held him in his arms. And above all, how both of them were so easily crumbling like dust from the depth of their desire.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Dean whispered into the other man's ear. "Hmm? Why are you so determined to get a rise out of me?"

"Are you talking about this?" Cas slipped his hand boldly between the hunter's legs and felt Dean shudder from the intimate touch. It was like a few sparks had travelled through both their bodies from such a bold contact. The way he cupped Dean's hardened cock nestled in his boxers and measured the length bravely, his fingers diving lower and lower until he unearthed a moan so low and deep, the hunter had no choice but to cling onto the edge.

"Goddamn it, Cas!" Dean lifted his head and sought out the other man's lips, but Cas tortured him by moving away, those blue eyes lit by small fires. "If you keep this up, I'm going to…" he choked on his words when he felt the absence of that torturous hand, replaced by the feel of Cas straining inside his pants. And even though there were layers of clothing between the two of them, Dean felt every single inch of Cas. He felt how gloriously hard he was. And he loved it.

His mind was reeling from the kiss of hot breath on his face, his neck. The way those blue eyes pulled him in and drowned him until he was flailing and couldn't stop climbing to the edge.

"Do you feel me what you do to me?" Cas croaked before kissing Dean deeply. He moved on top of the hunter and every time he grind their hips together, Dean mewled satisfactorily underneath him. "Every time you have doubts, just remember that my body reacts the way it does because I'm so in love with you." Raking back Dean's hair, Cas kissed him so deep whilst moving on top of him, the hunter cried out between their kisses.

Dean lost himself so much, he couldn't remember where the hell they were. All he was conscious of was how fucking amazing Cas felt on top of him and in his arms, and how he was nearing the edge dangerously. His mind was screaming, and his body was on fire. Sweat soaked his hair as Cas captured his face between those steady hands and kissed him until he couldn't breathe again. Dean didn't even realize where his hands were until he barely sifted through what little sanity, he had left to find that he was gripping Cas' ass through his jeans. And then and only then did he begin to squeeze their hips closer together.

Both of them worked up a rhythm that picked up a pace. Moving together and grinding their hardened cocks through their jeans until suddenly, Cas pulled back from their kiss and stared wide eyed into green ones.

"Let go," Dean's voice was barely a whisper when he captured the other man's face between his palms. And even after Cas had stopped moving, he continued the pace. Dean finally witnessed the light burning bright behind the other man's eyes as he became so breathless, he was shuddering from nearing the edge of release. "Come on, darling," he said, raking his fingers through Cas' wet hair. "Let go."

"Dean!" melting into the hunter's neck Cas hips jerked as his entire body convulsed and he came in his pants over and over again. Losing his mind wasn't exactly what he experienced alone. It was like becoming one with someone else. Like feeling the fire burning between the two of them and knowing that they were so closely connected, their bodies fed off each other's energy.

Within seconds though, after Dean held Cas' and marveled over how had managed to push the other man off the edge, how he really made him crash hard until he was breathless, he barely held on until… Until Cas buried his face into the crook of his shoulder and decided to bite his neck passionately. And as he sucked and held onto Dean tighter whilst his body still rode out every single ounce of release, Dean cried out Cas' name hoarsely repeatedly when he finally let go.

He held him though. Tenderly afterwards. Dean held Cas in his arms and weakly pressed kisses onto the other man's sweat soaked hair sticking up in all directions. By then, Cas had become so soft, only the rise and fall of his chest suggested that he was trying to recover from being so breathless. From losing himself over and over again until they had both soaked their pants and didn't really care at all. They didn't have the energy to get up, much less to clean up themselves. And because Dean was finally able to unearth that kind of severe release from Cas, he felt so close to him, nothing else in the world mattered.

He had found his other half. People used to tease him about finding love someday. About meeting someone who would change his world and whose world he would change also. But he never in his wildest dreams imagined that he would be holding Cas in his arms, a breathless Cas after they had once again made love to each other. And there were so many ways to make love to a man, Dean couldn't believe he had never thought about these things.

Everything he accomplished with Cas on an intimate level was so damn exciting, he began to lose his fear of sex. Of not knowing the rest of what they could do because when they were together, their bodies took over for them. They could never stop themselves from wanting each other. That much was obvious. And because he kept crashing every single time, finding that release in a man way better of an experience than any he ever had, Dean held Cas so close, he never wanted to let him go.

"You're…amazing," Cas said after a while, with his face buried into Dean's neck still. Softly, he allowed his fingers to play with the tendrils resting behind the hunter's right ear. "I think we should take a shower now. Don't you?"

"Can you manage?" Dean smiled. "Or do you want me to carry you in my arms?"

"You go first," Cas rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling, blinking slowly as if he was still trying to come back to reality.

Dean, after grabbing his towel, walked stiffly towards the door and after parting the shower curtains, he peeled off his sweat soaked clothes. The water was cold and refreshing when he stepped under. It rained onto his body and very soon after squeezing out some body wash into his hands, Dean heard the creak of the door.

At first, he stood still and wondered if Cas was coming in to brush his teeth. But then when the curtain was brushed aside, a bolt of shock filled his chest when he faced the other man completely naked for the first time.

"Cas, what the…" Dean reached for the knob and turned off the shower. Both of them stared at each other.

"I can't keep doing this anymore," Cas said as his chest heaved, his blue eyes darker than usual as he roamed Dean's body slowly, inch by inch from the hunter's neck down his torso. "I can't continue to…dream about how you look under your clothes. Dean, you're…" when he found the other man's exposed cock, Cas' lips parted, "more beautiful than I could have ever imagined."

"Fuck." Dean blinked and felt so damn vulnerable, he didn't know what else to say. He was standing there, completely naked and like an exhibit whilst the other man roamed his body.

Cas probably wasn't conscious of it, but his gaze wasn't entirely concealing of lust either. The way he brushed his eyes all over Dean's body and allowed his mind to touch the soft skin on the other man's inner thighs wasn't something that colored him in shame. No. Because he had yearned for this for ages. To stand there and stare in awe at the contours on Dean's body. The scars, all of them.

"Now it's my turn," Cas reached for the top button of his shirt.

"If you take your shirt off," Dean was so breathless, he felt like he would die, "I swear, I'm not going to be able to…Jesus, Cas. Go ahead and kill me in one night."

Those emerald eyes widened when one article of clothing was discarded on the floor. Then the other man unzipped his pants and stepped out of them skillfully whilst maintaining eye contact. All the while, Dean was losing his mind. Cas' slight hips and his goddamn black, sexy boxers. Fuck. He was so damn gorgeous, even before Cas revealed himself, Dean was hard again and this time, he couldn't conceal it. But so was Cas.

And Cas was…so beautifully sculpted, Dean shuddered from what he saw. Because what he had dreamt of so far didn't do the other man any justice. His cock was thicker and possibly an inch or more longer and he was standing there looking so delectable, Dean reached out, collected the other man's shoulder in his grasp and he gently pulled him closer.

"Am I enough?" Cas asked in a vulnerable voice, it stunned Dean because he felt like he should have asked that question.

"Come here," the hunter reached out, turned on the shower and pulled Cas into a kiss so deep at first, the two of them seemed to be coming to each other for the first time in a long time. "Don't ever ask me again if you're enough," Dean pressed their foreheads together with an inch of space between their bodies. "Even before I saw all of you, I knew you were the one who would complete me in every possible way."

"I can't stop wanting you, Dean," Cas offered a pained expression. "I really can't. I need you all the time."

"I want you too so much more."

"But you told me that you're scared, remember?"

Dean gazed into those blue eyes and felt the safest he had ever felt in years. "I'm not scared of holding you, or touching you, or making love to you. I'm just kind of not ready to go all the way as yet."

The other man's honesty wasn't ignored by Cas, instead, he smiled in acceptance. "But for now, let's make the most of what we can do without our clothes on."

"Hell, I'm game."

Cas moved in dangerously, and when Dean felt his back press against the tiled wall, he knew that he was doomed. He didn't anticipate what their bodies would feel like together though. Not in that fashion at all. So, when Cas did come into him, even before they fitted perfectly together, Dean was gasping for air as the water cascaded onto them. What he felt, was even better than the way Cas felt through his clothes.

Raw. Pure. Warm and slowly building a fire.

His pores were excited. Dean could feel every single dream he had ever had at last. And moaning as their lips danced close together, Dean wrapped his arms around the other man's hips and pulled him into a kiss so passionately, Cas knees buckled.

Gaining control was something that came easily to him when Cas was in his weakest moment. But he didn't want to overpower the glorious situation between them. Instead, Dean marveled over the feel of Cas' body. The way his skin was so soft and perfect. His thighs though. Obviously, Cas had been working out or something because he was toned in all the right places. Dean couldn't quite understand how a man's body could be so perfect. Even his freaking cock was beautiful, and the hunter felt terribly ashamed after thinking in such a dirty manner.

Cas on the other hand was seriously losing himself in the way Dean held him so close. Almost as if he didn't ever want to let him go. Dean's body was sculpted and toned and flawed by scars. He had scars from wounds in his past. Scars from wounds not so long ago. Cas left hickeys around the hunter's neck proudly claiming his territory, sucking and biting until the shower was filled with moans. Even when he stopped kissing the soft, tender flesh under Dean's right ear, Cas still wanted more. So, he smartly took a firm hold of the other man's ass and he pressed him up against the tiled walls.

They kissed so deeply for a full minute, Dean blindly reached for the knob and turned off the shower. He was so lost in Cas's embrace; he had no idea how a kiss could become so damn full of desire. It was like he had been thirsty for ten freaking years and trying so desperately to drink every single ounce of passion from between Cas' lips. Trying to seek out their profound bond and holding onto it for his life. And the more he tried, the more Cas pressed into him and grinded their hips together.

The rhythm was delicious. The feel of their hardened cocks nestled together was ideally the best kind of blissful moment in his life. So, Dean was naturally overwhelmed. From the way their hearts hammered together in their chests pressed together, to the way Cas kept sucking on his earlobe and biting his neck until the skin felt sensitive and raw.

All his energy built up like a volcano about to erupt but for some odd reason, he couldn't leap over the edge that easily this time around. Instead, he drove pathways with his desperate fingers through Cas' wet hair, and he kissed him as if Cas' mouth was his only oxygen supply.

Very soon though, their moans filled the bathroom and eventually when their eyes met, Dean implored with blue ones to provide him with the opportunity to take control. When Cas released him from their intimate grasp, the hunter walked him into the opposite direction until their positions were in reverse now. Then slowly and willingly because he had been aching to taste every inch of Cas, Dean, for the first time, went down on a guy.

If he had to sum up the experience into one word, he would have described everything as…simply delicious. From the moment he began to trail kisses down Cas' heaving chest, Dean realized how gay he probably was. For Cas, that is. Because the man's body was so fucking perfect. He kept pressing soft kisses until he was down on his knees and finally faced with his inexperienced nervous jitters on what to do next. And after taking a hold of Cas' hips, Dean's eyes met blue ones, perhaps seeking out instructions.

"Dean, don't think," Cas groaned, running his fingers through the other man's spiky hair and forcing out a painful smile. "Just feel. Do exactly to me what you'd like me to do to you. Please, Dean. I'm so…" when the hunter gripped his shaft between his fingers firmly, Cas stopped breathing. But Dean had other plans.

He pressed his parted lips onto the other man's hardened cock and literally felt so nervous, Dean was terribly ashamed of himself. Why couldn't he bravely pursue the man he loved? What the hell was holding him back? Cas was all open and ready to go all the way with him, giving up control of his body, and Dean felt so awkward about it, he froze up.

"My love," Cas gently said whilst caressing the other man's face affectionately.

"I can't…" Dean felt so humiliated. He blinked and sucked in air through his lips.

"Here," Cas took a hold of his cock between his fingers and gently eased the tip near the other man's lips. He was already leaking, aching for release. "Close your eyes and just feel what I'm doing. Do you trust me?"

Dean nodded, his emerald eyes fluttering close. Just when he expected to be completely turned off by the new feeling, as Cas eased himself into the hunter's mouth, he was surprisingly stunned to realize that…the whole affair was somewhat…captivating to say the least. Gradually, he worked himself into becoming comfortable and when he finally tasted Cas, Dean couldn't get enough.

He took over, wrapping his fingers around the other man's dick and he began to do exactly what was expected of him. Slowly at first, never being able to completely devour Cas down his throat but nevertheless, he was doing something right because the other man was writhing against the wall. And Dean couldn't believe how simply beautiful the entire ordeal was as he marveled over the soft brown coarse hair gathered between Cas' legs and the way he was so damn perfect. Every time he took Cas into his mouth, Dean's heart sighed. And with every thrust into his mouth, Dean mirrored the same action with his hardened cock between his fingers.

"Dean," Cas moaned loudly, his eyes squeezed shut as he rode the journey towards the edge. "Just like…that. You're doing so…good." His body was steaming, and gradually, a beautiful feeling of warmth pooled into his gut. "Dean!" he cried hoarsely, throwing his head back and gasping for air. And unbelievably, Cas came so intensely, his hips jerked after every wave of release into the other man's mouth and over and over, he kept crying out as Dean swallowed every single time.

Then after pulling the hunter up into an embrace, Cas kissed Dean deeply, tasting himself on the other man's lips. He reached between them and took a hold of Dean's leaking cock and then gradually, he jerked him off until the hunter wept into the crook of his shoulder. Biting and trying to muffle his cries after coming again and again. With every release, Cas yanked him within a firm grasp and held Dean in his arms until he was well spent and weak.

By the time they were both finished lathering up skin still on fire, kissing in between soapy suds and laughing into each other's mouths, Dean was so exhausted. He barely managed to towel off, slip into a tank and boxers and plopping onto the bed, the hunter waited patiently.

It had been a…blissful evening. He never in his wildest dreams believed that giving a blowjob to Cas would leave him feeling so full. And so soft inside. Dean rested upon the sheets and smiled up at the ceiling, wondering why on earth he had been so nervous in the first place.

It wasn't as if he was completely closed off to a man's needs. He had those same gut-wrenching needs, didn't he? To be honest, Cas had tasted so damn good. He could still feel the other man's release down his throat and how Cas had cried out his name repeatedly. That alone, was powerful to him because he was completely certain of the impact, he had over the man he loved. And because of that impact, Dean felt satisfied.

When Cas emerged from the bathroom, his hair was wild and with a towel wrapped around his waist alone, Dean could only stare.

What in the world could be more beautiful than Castiel? Even without his grace, he appeared as glorious as an angel. His skin was glowing, and those blue eyes were so damn piercing, Dean couldn't peel his gaze away from the best view of the ocean resting on the most handsome face of his lover.

He grinned like a teenager, maddened by love and chuckled afterwards. "Hi, darling."

Cas rolled his eyes and chuckled. Toweling his hair, he slowly stepped towards the opened bag sitting on the other bed. Then gracefully parting a few articles of clothing aside, he reached inside for something and pulled out a black ACDC t-shirt.

About three years ago, Dean had given Cas that same t-shirt to wear under his shirt on a hunt because of the bitter winter. And ever since then, Cas had always taken the t-shirt with him everywhere. Even when he had distanced himself from the other man after Mary's death, Cas still had packed the shirt in his bag.

Dean remembered. He stared at the shirt and couldn't quite believe how long it had been since that one cold night when the other man was literally shivering inside a motel room. And he had pulled the shirt out and tossed it over at a confused Cas. Now though, Cas looked so damn good wearing his clothes, Dean sighed deeply and felt small butterflies swirling around inside his chest. His heart was galloping, almost as if he was riding high on ecstasy and when the other man approached the bed, Dean held his breath.

"Making love to you is the best feeling in the world," Cas said in his gravelly voice. He climbed onto the bed and sat with his legs folded. He gazed lovingly at Dean.

The hunter smiled as his chest swelled. "Likewise, Cas."

"Are you still feeling uncomfortable?"

"With what?" Dean held his breath.

Cas shrugged. "Me…being a man. My body…"

"I really don't have a problem with any inch of your body at this point," Dean produced an award-winning smile. "Jesus, Cas. You're so amazing, if you could see yourself through my eyes. If you could feel how I feel about you. At this point, I'm a hopeless mess."

"You're adorable," Cas caressed the hunter's cheek with his cupped fingers and smiled lovingly.

The night was still. Even the leaves on the maple tree beyond the window weren't moving. Yet the stillness had a satisfying feel instead of an eerie one. It was almost as if nature was holding its breath.

"How did I do?" Dean asked after some time. He was still a bit paranoid about his performance.

"Splendidly. And how did I do?"

Dean sighed dreamily. "You're way ahead in the game. I don't know where the hell you got your knowledge from in making out with a guy, but you're freaking good at it."

"Well honestly since we entered into an official relationship," Cas settled onto his back comfortably beside Dean, their shoulders touching, "I've been doing a lot of reading about the many ways to make out with another man. There isn't a vast amount of content online, which disappointed me. But I did find a blog that specializes in exploring the nature of sex. It dates to several years."

Impressed, Dean nodded whilst unconsciously staring up at the ceiling. Arms folded behind his head; he couldn't imagine a life much better than the one he was experiencing.

"Cas, wasn't there ever a rule in Heaven…against homosexuality or something? I mean, you were created as an angel of God. I don't think you're supposed to go against the Bible, right?"

Thinking about it, Cas turned onto his side and nestled his right cheek onto Dean's chest. "The rule never applied to angels because we were never supposed to fall in love with humans in the first place. Anna was imprisoned and tortured eons ago because she slept with a human in Israel. Then when she slept with you…" Cas paused and the night was so silent, although Dean's heart gave a few loud thuds in his chest. "She was disciplined severely. As was I…"

"Right," the hunter remembered, "when you started to have feelings for me. But Cas," Dean croaked, reaching for the other man's hand and entwining their fingers, "before you met me, when you were on earth, didn't you ever experience the same kind of feelings for any other human?"

"No," Cas admitted. "I dwelled on earth for a considerable amount of time before raising you from hell. But I never felt so…weak and conflicted. When I first realized that I was feeling something for you, I was terrified. I wanted you in so many ways, Dean. I wanted to be so close to you and you had a problem with me getting into your personal space."

"I remember how you used to kill me with that problem," Dean smiled up at the ceiling. He gently stroked Cas' hair. "You used to get all up in my face and stare at me without blinking. Wait, was that why Naomi made you kill me repeatedly? Because of your feelings for me?"

"Yes," Cas said hoarsely. The memories of repeatedly stabbing Dean sliced his chest with pain. Oh, how he had crumbled, moving from loving to detesting the feeling of love, over and over again.

"No wonder when the bitch met me, she told me I had corrupted you. Damn. Do you remember Meg?"

"I do…"

Dean laughed. The sound of an audience laughing drifted from Sam's room next door. "Meg seriously believed we were together since then. Even Balthazar. Crowley used to throw these hints."

"He once said that he could smell the Impala all over me," Cas admitted, remembering how jealous the King of Hell had been over his bond with Dean. "Crowley was convinced that we used to have sex in your car."

"I've had sex with you in the backseat of Baby a thousand times since you left that day," Dean referenced their terrible parting of ways a few weeks prior. Back then he had been so damn full of pain and drowning.

"But when you dream of having sex with me, how far do we manage to go, Dean?" Cas met emerald eyes and he didn't look away. "I'm still curious why you're terrified. Is it because of your fear of failing to please me? Because once we cross that line, I'm certain that we will both enjoy it thoroughly. And I'm not asking this of you because going all the way is essentially more important than anything else in our relationship. Why I'm asking is simply because I would like us to talk about your fears and mine."

"I'm just…" Dean felt somewhat comfortable about exposing himself, "…not ready. What we're doing so far is freaking amazing. You're gentle with me and patient and I keep loving you even more because you're trying to make me feel comfortable with the idea of making love. Tonight, when you told me that you couldn't keep dreaming about how I looked naked, I was shocked but then I realized that hey, I feel the same way too. I've been dreaming about you all day long. I've been hating on your trench coat, and I never used to hate it this much. Now when you take it off, my eyes just can't stop trying to find you under your shirt and your jeans."

"Well now you are quite aware of how I look under my clothes," Cas provided with a smile. "Every inch of me."

"I still can't believe that you're mine, Cas," Dean admitted in a soft tone. He stared lovingly into the other man's eyes.

"Well you need to start believing. I'm fully yours. All of me."

Dean sighed. "Do you think that I'll ever get better though, Cas?"

"What do you mean?" the other man offered a worried look. He was suddenly frightened, and Cas felt so softer, he pulled the other man into his embrace and didn't want to let go.

"Today Sam and I were talking, and…I…kind of went to a dark place, you know? I always go back there even when I don't want to and when I go back there, I think I'm just scratching at my scars. I'm making them worst and he hates when I try to remember the painful parts of my past, but I can't forget. I am the way I am because of my bad experiences and if I was to erase all of them, then I wouldn't be so damn…"

"Beautiful," Cas completed in a husky tone. "Dean, it's okay to remember. But what causes me great displeasure is when you allow the pain to overwhelm you again and again, as brutal as it wounded you before. I've realized something about you, Dean. When you're backed into a corner, you refuse to talk about your feelings. And when you try to bury the trauma inside, you act on impulse and you become reckless. And the reason why I'm trying so hard to get you to open up to me and I keep holding on to you a little tighter than normal is because I'm afraid that if I let you go, I'll lose you."

"I almost lost you, Dean. You were trying to battle your feelings for me alone in your room without letting anyone in and Sam told me about hiding your gun from you. He also had to take away the medication in your room and your weapons. It's why I ran back to you. I was so angry at you, I hated you because I loved you and I wanted you to suffer because of the pain you caused me. I know that it was selfish," Cas admitted when tears clouded Dean's beautiful eyes. "But at that point, I had no idea that you felt the same about me and I kept hating you because I thought that you would never understand."

"So, what made you come back to me?" Dean's throat ached from his urge to cry.

"Maybe we shouldn't talk about this now," Cas regretted what he had said out loud because of the pain reflected behind emerald eyes.

"Why did you come back, Cas?" Dean wouldn't give up that easily. "Even though you started to hate me…"

"Sam," Cas said softly, holding onto their entwined fingers and fearing that they would crash. "He reached out to me, explained how you were destroying yourself and immediately, I started to love you again."

"Because I was suffering?"

"No," Cas could hear the pain between Dean's words. "Because you were clearly in love with me and couldn't accept it."

"So, if Sam never reached out to you," Dean wouldn't give up. He was riding on a wave of terrible mushiness and needed to swim through it before he could lift his head above the murky water. "You wouldn't have come back to me, Cas?"

"Maybe not for a long time."

"And suppose whilst you were jumping around the world, taking your time to come back to me, I ended up killing myself…"

"Dean," Cas swallowed hard and tears clouded his vision. He propped himself up on his elbow and connected their eyes. Emerald ones were leaking and suddenly, Cas hated himself so much for digging so deep. "Please don't think like that. Where you are right now, where we are, we've made so much progress. You have made so much progress."

"Have I, Cas?" Dean's voice trembled. He felt so vulnerable, he wished that he could stop expelling all his pain, but his heart wouldn't allow it. "So far, I'm still broken inside and I still feel low most days. But the only difference is, I have you to keep my head above water. But if you ever leave me, I'm going to go right back to digging my own grave because that's what I've been doing all these years since I came back from hell."

"Babe," Cas collected Dean into his arms and hugged him tenderly. He pressed a kiss onto the other man's forehead. "I'm going to love you until I fix all your broken pieces back together. And whilst I'm doing that, I'll try to fill every void in your life."

"That shouldn't be your job," Dean said into Cas' hair, his tears leaking onto the soft tendrils. "How can you fix me when I'm beyond fixing? How can you love me when I'm so dead inside without you? I'm using you as my lifeline, Cas. And the moment you realize how I'm beyond saving; you're going to leave me."

Cas pressed their lips together in the softest kiss, catching Dean's barely parted ones. When he pulled back an inch, the hunter stared into blue eyes that anchored him through the chaos. "I'm never going to leave you, sweetheart. I'm never going to ever leave you because you know why?" Cas initiated another kiss that unearthed a low moan from the other man. "I'm so in love with you, nothing else makes sense to me. I have nowhere else to go because nowhere else will feel as safe as when I'm in your arms. Or when I'm kissing you or we're making love. Why would I leave you when you're all that I ever wanted for close to eleven years now? I've loved you for such a long time, Dean Winchester."

"Cas…" Dean whispered.

"And I'm going to keep on loving you even when you don't want me to. Sam said that we might do some shopping on our way back tomorrow. Is there anything that you specifically need? Perhaps…another pair of Frozen underwear?" Cas was trying so desperately to change the topic.

"Don't judge what you do not understand," Dean supplied a stolid expression. "And yes, I do need a pair of Frozen boxers. I also need to buy you something for Christmas, which is in four days, by the way."

"Well I've purchased your gift two months ago and it has been well hidden in the bunker since then, so maybe I might add another if I find something. I need to buy something for Sam…"

"Get him a pair of moose antlers. He always loves those," Dean smiled. "Or you know what? We'll ditch him in the bookstore, and we'll go looking for a gift. I also need to get him something. Might get you a pair of handcuffs and a blindfold. What you think about that?"

Cas collected the other man's face between his hands and smiled sweetly. "Sure, because those items wouldn't be used on me. You'll be buying them to aid me in conducting some extensive foreplay on you."

"You tease," Dean's body shuddered from the jolt of desire rippling through his veins. "Dammit, Cas."


	21. Discomfort

**A/N - A very long chapter for the most amazing readers ever.**

* * *

"So, the green one then," Sam held up a pair of trunks plastered with lush green leaves. He frowned. "Or the red ones? Because I'm feeling the red ones too."

"Then maybe you should buy both," Cas smiled as he pawed through a rack of t-shirts. His hand paused on a black armless one of the softest material with the word 'Tiger' in yellow. And he thought silently how Dean would appear quite sexy in a such a piece that Cas decidedly slipped it off the hanger and draped it onto his arm.

"I need boxers," Sam's lanky form was quite visible above the many racks of clothing. He raked his fingers through silky hair and quickly narrowed his eyes at his best friend's smiling face. "You okay there, bro?"

"Yes," Cas yanked another shirt off the hanger; one the exact shade of Dean's eyes with the words 'I'm Taken' on the front in white. "What do you think of these?" he handed over what he had discovered.

"Man," Sam smiled from ear to ear after assessing the choices. "I can't wait to see his reaction. You gonna put these as Christmas gifts?"

"I should."

The taller Winchester laughed. "I feel like my mischievousness is growing on you. We hang out too much, you know?"

They walked through a cluster of male mannequins dressed in formal attire and eventually wandered into the lady's department. Sam, of course, suddenly welcomed a gleeful look upon his face.

"Maybe I should buy him a Cat woman suit for Christmas," he said gloriously.

"No," Cas shook his head although smiling in confusion. "Dean would not like that very much. I think he would prefer an Elsa costume."

Both of them ended up laughing loudly that a few of the salesclerks threw puzzled looks in their direction.

"They're probably wondering why two dudes are giggling like crazing among racks of panties and bras," Sam snorted as he held up a sexy red lingerie number with heart shaped holes in the cups of the bra. "Do you prefer these?"

"I think you'd wear it better," Cas played along.

"Oh no," Sam pressed the bra onto his puffed-out chest. "I don't think it's my size."

"Maybe they have an extra-large in inventory."

Both of them guffawed until the security guard slowly approached them and winding through the racks of clothing, they narrowly escaped after cashing out in haste.

Finding Dean inside the mall was really like finding a needle in a haystack. Both of them searched high and low and after giving up, Sam and Cas settled onto two chairs in front of a café breathless. The aroma of fresh coffee wasn't tempting to either of them since Sam was more of a green tea kind of guy and Cas had adapted to the same taste as well. In fact, both of them appeared quite sophisticated sipping teas from fine china and adding cubes of sugar. People all around them were casting either confused looks or adoration in their eyes.

"I keep thinking of the cashier's face when she checked out the shirts," Sam said smiling. "Most likely thought we were a couple from the 'I'm Taken' one."

"She did look very constipated," Cas thought about it as he tried to conceal the gift bag inside a black plastic bag.

"Here, let me keep those," Sam offered, holding out a hand, "will make Dean think that it's stuff I bought."

"Thanks," Cas handed over the bags and sat back, "do you think he'll be able to find us here?"

"I mean, we're basically in the middle of the place," Sam said looking around at the droves of people pushing past each other. Last minute shopping for Christmas usually brought out everyone. "He's got to see us. Look. There he is." After waving, Sam's eyes settled on Cas' face, only to drink in the utter look of adoration in those blue ones.

"I couldn't find anything for either of you," Dean jogged over and settled onto a chair in the middle of his brother and Cas. "So, I bought boring cards instead."

"Really? Cards come in bulky shapes now?" Sam considered the two hefty red bags tied off securely. "What are those? Gimme…"

Slapping his brother's hand away from his purchases, Dean turned his reassuring smile at Cas. "Hi, gorgeous."

Immediately melting from the greeting, a blush dusted Cas' cheek and he turned away, awkwardly smiling. "Hi, Dean."

"You two make me so mellow," Sam rested his face on his palms, elbow propped on the table and he sighed. "I'm beginning to melt like Olaf."

"Ha!" Dean pointed at his brother and scoffed at Cas, "see? I told ya! He's seen the movie too."

After ordering two teas: chai for Sam then honey and ginger for Cas, the hunter settled into two steaming cups of coffee as anticipated. Brewed to perfection and topped off with a bagel covered in cream cheese, Dean was way beyond contented by the time the garden salad and ham sandwich arrived on plates for the other two men. And when Cas stalled on digging into his meal, Dean had to remind him that within five minutes if he didn't make a move, there would be nothing on Cas' plate.

Sam, however, was suddenly blushing at his phone, and tapping away at the screen, both Cas and Dean peered over like concerned parents.

"Is that the Game of Thrones chick you're sexting?" Dean asked, chewing on a triangle of ham he had stolen from Cas' sandwich.

Trying to compose himself, Sam shook his head. "Nah, it's this girl I met on Facebook. She wants to meet me and – I don't know why I'm nervous about it. I mean, we've video chatted several times so –"

"Hmm," Dean offered a smug look as he gestured for his brother's phone to be handed over. "Let me see, and then Cas and I will pass our final judgement."

Willingly, Sam released his mobile and awaited the verdict as his two 'parents' leaned in closer, shoulders touching, to make their general assessments.

"Too short?" Dean turned to consider Cas whose face was an inch away from his. The other man nodded and then he latched his piercing blue eyes on the younger Winchester. "I figure that her looks might distract everyone from his ugly face. What do you think?"

"I am not contributing to that," Cas squeezed their shoulders closer together and grinned. "Mala is a nice name."

"If Mala is even her real name," Dean countered. "Says here she studied bio chem. Worked for Loreal and she has two cats."

"Sam," Cas slipped the phone out of the older Winchester's grasp and handed it over with a warming smile, "any woman who owns more than one cat is a keeper."

"See?" Sam gestured at Cas with a gratifying smile, "you get it! She's loving and warm and an introvert like me, so we get each other. Plus, she's into the green regime; in terms of eating habits, the planet…"

"You two might starve each other to death," Dean said gruffly. "Can't screw each other as much when you're not getting some good energy from burgers and whatever else is on the high cholesterol menu."

"I'm not sure about that, Dean," Cas frowned at the man by his side. "I lean more towards Sam's healthy lifestyle and I have an endless amount of energy when it comes to screwing you."

When Dean choked on his coffee, Sam guffawed, slapping the table and praising Cas for his beautiful comeback. Their bond was endless, Sam and Cas. And on most days, they really spent too little time with each other to really appreciate their similarities.

"Dude, like…" Sam dabbed at his mouth with a square of tissue, eyes gleaming, "you are so freaking awesome. I'm glad to have you in our lives, man. Really glad. Also, glad that you managed to kick some sense into Dean's head so that he finally saw the truth."

"And that is?" the older Winchester tried to snatch the remaining sandwich from Cas' plate and his hand was lashed away.

"You're totally gay for Cas," Sam said marveling over them appearing like a married couple already. "Like, completely into him, you should see the way your face changes when you look at him. I've seen that look a thousand times but now, it's like you're looking at the most beautiful thing in the entire universe. And it's adorable."

"I don't do adorable, Sam. But thanks anyway. Cas, I want the damn sandwich," Dean actually pouted when the other man folded his arms over the plate protectively. "Why are you being so mean to me?"

"You've already had an unhealthy bagel," Cas protested in a very gentle voice. "I want you to live for a long time, Dean. I don't want you to die from an illness brought on by you chugging calories into your body. Think of me whenever you're trying to hug the calories. Do you want me to grow old without you by my side? Hmm?"

"See what he does to me?" Dean asked Sam in a softer tone, "every single time, when I drift away from the shore, he reels me back in with his freaking words. I swear, I'd do anything for him when he gives me that look."

"What look?" Cas' chest felt mushy.

Dean sighed. "When you look at me as if I'm the best thing that has ever happened to you."

"But you are," Cas tilted his head and offered up a very loving gaze. "I've told you over and over again, Dean. My life would be meaningless with you. Now let's stop before Sam suffers from a stroke."

For two weeks, everything about their lives settled into a comfortable feeling whilst dwelling alongside each other in the bunker.

Sam kept perusing the radar for cases, but none never showed up. Nothing out of the ordinary had been developing and for a while, the three of them welcomed the vacation.

They bonded over breakfast and dinner and then Sam dug into the many books inside the Men of Letters' library, as he learned a lot more about angels and demons and creatures that his father possibly had not encountered in his lifetime as a hunter. Like the lore from other parts of the map; South America, Central America. The Ole Higue and Moongazer. All the details thrilled him to be privileged to have access to such expansive information.

Dean and Cas on the other hand continued to take things slow to a point where the most blissful moments started with a kiss and ended with their hands in each other's pants. Since the night when they had showered together, they never explored that option again and it was something that troubled Cas the most.

He kept wondering if Dean was closing into his shell again. If the hunter was somehow lacking the interest to become intimate with him again and the more he thought about it, the more Cas acknowledged Dean's alternative avenues in showing his affection. And then Cas decided to label Dean as a hopeless romantic.

There were times when he did the smallest things that melted Cas' heart. Like adding a vase containing two roses on the table between them when they shared a meal alone. Or the way Dean tucked him in before settling onto his side of the bed. Most nights, Dean never slept until Cas wandered off into his dreams. Instead, the hunter stayed up and counted every single eyelash on the other man's face until he couldn't drown in love anymore.

Dean made attempts to switch his diet, phasing out the calories bit by bit and sharing different mixtures of tea with Cas in the morning. Their approach was more of an exciting one that Sam had suggested. They had bought an assortment of teabags and had tossed all of them into a canister. Then every single morning, either of them would shake the canister and pull out a random teabag. And mulling over random thoughts, Dean sipped his warm tea and his socked feet reached for Cas' bare ones under the table.

"Tell me again why you love me," Dean said one morning when the two of them were sharing extra peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

Cas chewed and smiled. "Because your eyes remind me of the grass beside the loch in Scotland. Your smile melts away my fears. Your…hands entwined with mine makes me feel like I'm the luckiest man in the world. And you also have a beautiful package inside of your pants that drives me crazy."

"Cas!" Dean's cheeks turned crimson. Bowing his head, he reached for his cup of tea and tried to sip but couldn't swallow. "Dammit! Now I've lost my appetite."

"And mine has now extended to include you as an early lunch…"

"You…" Dean stared back, his jaw hanging open, "…flirt. Jesus, Cas. We made out less than six hours ago. It's 8am and I'm still raw from what your mouth did to me. Sam's been teasing me about the hickeys, and I have to turn up my collar every time I leave the bunker."

"You're the tastiest snack, Dean Winchester," Cas shrugged, collected his cup of tea and sipped, those beautiful blue eyes focused on emerald ones.

"I feel like I'm supposed to say thank you but then if I do, you might just get under the table and torment the living hell out of me," Dean shifted uncomfortably on his chair. "You really have a high sex drive, you realize that?"

"I'm quite proud of that," Cas smirked, resting his lips teasingly upon the rim of the cup. "I find myself becoming rather thirsty whenever I go down on you. Had it been biologically possible, by now I would probably be pregnant by—"

"La la la la laaaa!" Dean rose up from the table and sang loudly as he went to the sink. "Sleep alone tonight. Sending all my love on the wire. They say that the road ain't no place to start a family…."

"Dean."

"And loving a music man ain't always what it's supposed to be. Oh man," he gestured at Castiel whilst belting out the lyrics to Journey's song, "you stand by me. I'm forever yours. Faithfully."

"Dean!"

"Dun dun dunn dun," Dean dramatically strummed on an invisible guitar, eyes squeezed shut.

Cas rolled his eyes at the ceiling. "What an adorable idiot you are. You know, I should start recording you on my phone for future humiliating instances and—"

"Give me that!" Dean closed the distance between them and snatched the mobile away from Cas' hand. "Let's see what you have in your gallery."

"Dean! Don't," the other man protested, trying to grab his phone away from the older Winchester. However, he failed terribly and settling back into the chair, Cas concealed his eyes behind a hand, instantly feeling ashamed.

Emerald eyes pinched from a smile gradually filled with adoration when Dean tapped into Cas' gallery and discovered that there was an album with his name as the title. 49 pictures piqued his interest and sliding into the chair beside Cas, he tapped into the album and immediately marveled over the collection ranging from his sleeping face, to him nestled into the chair in the game room. There were also stills of the back of his head in the Impala and one with him sitting cross legged on the floor cleaning his gun.

"Man," Dean melted further after finding a very awkward photo of the two of them posing on a bench in the park about 8 years ago. Sam had taken the photo and the beauty in the details resided in the simplicity of identifying Cas' arm draped around the bench behind Dean, who was unconsciously leaning a little into an unsmiling Cas. "These are pretty awesome."

There was one video, probably from almost 9 years ago when Cas had obviously gotten his hands on his phone for the first time. Holding his breath, Dean bravely opened it up and braced himself for the rather handsome and youthful face of Castiel sitting on a sofa holding the phone at arm's length.

"_So, I have…acquired a mobile device…"_

"Dean, no!" Cas tried to grab the phone away, "please, don't look at that. It's very embarrassing to say the least and I said a few things that will –"

"Hush," Dean wrapped his fingers gently around the other man's wrist and sent him a soft look. "I've seen you naked, okay? There's nothing you could say at this point that would make me feel any less attracted to you. Because I'm already fully there."

Sighing, Cas shook his head, and shaded his eyes in shame.

Dean resumed the video.

"…_and I have discovered that a video is a sequence of moving photos captured simultaneously. Earth has…changed quite a lot since my last visit. There are such things as boxers, which I am wearing currently from acquiring this vessel…" Castiel glanced down at himself and blinked. "And then there is a glorified tragedy by the name of Dean Winchester…"_

"Oh really?" Dean sent Cas a smile. "I'm beginning to like this…"

"_He is an enigma wrapped up in plaid and denim…his soul," Castiel swallowed, "is terribly flawed and somehow…the most beautiful miracle I have ever seen. From the first time I touched him in Hell, I felt something. I have never felt before. But this…confuses me tremendously because whenever I'm around him, I cannot fathom how a human could affect me in ways that are new and terrifying. Anna calls it…love. But we are not supposed to love. My mission on earth is to save Dean and to keep him safe. But how can I follow Heaven's rules when every time he looks at me I just…" Castiel glanced at something in the distance, "Uriel, I am making a video."_

"_How boring," the other angel said in the background. "We have new orders…"_

"_Goodbye," Castiel said stiffly in his gravelly voice._

The video ended and Dean's entire neck was covered in a deep blush. He tried to contain the depth of his adoration for Cas after their eyes met but nothing in the world could stop him from entwining their fingers.

"You said…that whenever I looked at you, you just…what was it, Cas?" Dean asked in a softer tone.

The other man's chest heaved, and he tried not to drown too much in the most beautiful shade of emerald. "Whenever you looked at me, I felt the brutal honesty of love. It wasn't physical at first. It was more of a feeling of connecting with you on a deeper level and trying to decipher why my celestial form was responding in that manner to a human."

"So, when you were a full fledge angel, you couldn't feel anything physical for me? Or emotionally?" Dean wondered out loud.

"It was minimal at first but then as time progressed, I grew to feel a lot of things for you regardless of my grace. You've changed me tremendously, Dean," Cas reached out and cupped the other man's face between his fingers. "I am one of the few angels who fell completely in love with a human and managed to hold on to that feeling for so many years without the feeling fading away. Other angels will never understand my capacity for loving you. They say that I am terribly flawed."

"Well you're not," Dean reached up and captured Cas' fingers between his warm ones. "You're beautifully made. In human form and as a celestial being. And yeah, I saw a lot of your celestial side when I had the Mark of Cain. Cas, it was like nothing I had ever seen before in my life. And your wings…just…wow. I'm always wondering how you hide them so well. Like, where are they right now as you're sitting here?"

"Curled around you," Cas admitted in his gravelly voice.

When Dean realized the truth behind the other man's words, with eyes widened, he glanced around him, as if searching for the shadowed form of the most beautiful wings he had ever cast his eyes on.

"I don't… but wait, since you've lost your grace, how do you still have them?"

Cas avoided eye contact and swallowed. He tried to control his breathing, trying to appear composed. "We never lose our wings when our grace fades," he said painfully to Dean. "They're always there."

"Can I see them?" Dean asked, completely oblivious to the shadows behind blue eyes.

"No," Cas shook his head and appeared defeated. "They're quite weak right now. I've lost most of my grace and the essence of my wings are barely there."

"Um…okay," Dean bowed his head and suddenly felt as the air between them was filled with tension and he couldn't understand why. He just couldn't and it deeply affected him until he tried to meet Cas' eyes and the other man lowered his pair. "What's happening?" he croaked, his fingers drumming lightly on the table.

"What do you mean?" Cas was fighting to appear unaffected.

Dean, however, was suddenly aware that something had shifted between them. "Cas look if it's because of me asking to see your wings, I'm sorry, I was just curious, is all. And I thought that it wouldn't be that big of a deal."

"It is," Cas said in a stiff tone. He sighed when emerald eyes widened. "It's nothing major, Dean. I'm just tired."

"Of what?" Dean stared back. "Of me?"

"Never," and rising from the table, Cas' feet padded softly upon the floor as he went to the sink. "There are just some things that make me uncomfortable. Like showing you my wings."

"But Cas…"

"Dean, no!" the other man said in a frustrated tone, with his back to the hunter. "I don't want to show you. The end. I'm going to take a shower." And without sticking around for another second, Cas left the kitchen, with Dean completely flabbergasted.

He was so confused at that point, for the rest of the day, there was nothing Dean could do that would fade away the prickly feeling. Of probably saying the wrong things again. Of knowing that Cas was hiding something from him. Because he was certain now.

Repeatedly as the hours rolled by after their conversation and the more he thought about it, Dean really believed that something had not been said. And because Sam had drowned himself in a shitload of books about angels recently, Dean found him in the library, closed the door and sunk into a chair.

"What's up?" the taller Winchester frowned at his brother's haggard demeanor. "You look crappy."

"Gee, thanks," Dean smiled stiffly and folding his arms, he sat back with a sigh. "I need your help."

Sam, of course, was immediately interested. Marking his place in the thick volume of lore from South America, he folded his arms on the table and gave his brother his full attention. Then after some time when Dean merely sat before him, evidently stewing in a pit of worry, Sam cleared his throat and offered a sympathetic look.

"It's…Cas," Dean said softly, shifting uncomfortably in his chair because he didn't know how to broach the topic. "This morning, I kind of asked him to see his wings and he freaked out."

"Fetish of yours?" Sam joked but failed terribly. The look in his brother's eyes went flat. "Alright, bad timing. I'm sorry," he held up his hands. "What happened exactly?"

"Well he told me that his grace is too weak, and his wings are not in a good state and he can't show them to me because it makes him uncomfortable."

Sam nodded slowly. "Understandable. Dean if Cas has lost almost all his grace by now, then his wings would be broken in a lot of ways. From what I've read, overtime as an angel loses its grace, its connection to Heaven becomes weaker. And since their grace fuels their celestial being, wings and all, everything slowly dies away."

"So, he's dying?" Dean croaked as his throat ached. "Is that it?

"Not necessarily. Remember when he fell from Heaven and lost all his grace? He still survived. He was pretty okay. He's just more human now than a celestial being because of many contributing factors. For instance, he told me that the power of Heaven has been fading tremendously and Chuck being the dick he is, isn't helping much. The only source out there who could make new angels and restore the lights in Heaven is an arch angel or Jack."

"I wish that he would talk to me about that part of his life a little more, that's all," Dean appeared crestfallen. "Most times it seems as if I'm only talking about me."

"You just got to ask the right questions," Sam assured him, fingering the gold coated page edges. "I ask him boldly whenever I want to know more. Like recently, I've been asking him a bunch of questions about Heaven. Like what it's like and so far, he's been giving me all the replies."

"Yeah, but you're his best friend in a bro way," Dean sighed. "I feel like because we're in a relationship, and we're sleeping together, we've started taking certain things for granted. Like I'm becoming too comfortable with the idea of just having him right now that everything else around me doesn't matter. Chuck, for instance. We're supposed to be finding a way to defeat him and all I'm doing is ignoring the whole world."

"Dean, if Cas holds back on telling you something, then it doesn't mean that he loves you less. It takes a hell of a long time to get to know someone completely."

"I've known him for a little over 10 years, Sam," Dean reminded his brother. "How much longer do we need?"

"Truthfully? There are some things about Cas that you really don't know about," Sam offered a sad look. "Over the years, he's opened up to me because he's always been in love with you and terribly afraid of getting closer than a friend. With me, we talked about anything because there wasn't that barrier there. I can honestly tell you straight up that Cas has not had an easy time loving you in terms of coming to terms with his feelings and suffering from Naomi and every other angel who judged him for it."

"Dude, this is not about who's his best friend," Sam said when Dean cast his eyes off and looked disappointed. "At the end of the day, I'm not the one who owns his heart. You're the man he wants to spend the rest of his life with. Me? I'm just his brother. And I think all you need to do is start asking the questions and you'll get the answers."

"But why do I have to ask?" Dean's forehead creased in confusion. "Why can't he tell me things? Why can't he talk to me about his wings or his freaking time in Heaven easily?"

"Because maybe his connection to Heaven is not something he is proud of anymore since. All we've ever thought about Heaven is nothing good and sometimes we fail to realize that Cas' home was once Heaven. We're talking about his family and in a manner of speaking, Chuck is his dad. If I were in Cas' shoes, I wouldn't want to bring that into any conversation with you. He knows how uncomfortable and angry the topic is going to get you, so he avoids it."

It made sense.

Dean mulled over what his brother had pointed out and wondered if Cas being so bristly signaled that he was agitated deep down inside. That he missed his family and his home. That he regretted, even a little, losing everything to be with Dean. And when Dean thought about how he had never really weighed Cas' sacrifices before, he began to feel a sense of dread.

"I was thinking, maybe we could head out tonight," Sam said, reaching for the magnifying glass and peering through it at a small patch covered in hieroglyphics. "The three of us. You know, grab a few beers like old times. There's a pub not too far from here that makes a good burger. Remember? The Grill Masters?"

"Yeah but Cas," Dean couldn't clear his head, "I don't know if he would want to go though."

"If I would want to go where?" came that familiar gravelly voice from the doorway. Dean swiveled his chair around and stared wide eyed at the other man.

Sam cleared his throat. "Hey Cas, how does a beer or two sound to top off the night?"

Cas' feet padded upon the floor and Dean…Dean simply stared at his brother, instantly remembering the tension between him and Cas and wondering if the two of them would revert to meeting each other on a comfortable level.

Could they break any further? Was it possible to shatter yourself into a million pieces onto to grind those pieces into dust?

Softly though, Dean melted into the touch of Cas' fingers running through his hair. Ruffling the soft tendrils. Almost as if he was playfully trying to reassure the hunter that no matter what, in regardless of their small disputes, Cas would always love him. And draping his arms around Dean's shoulder, Cas rested his chin upon the hunter's head and smiled at Sam.

"I'd love to join you two," he said. "Only one beer though. I hate beers."

"Great," Sam quickly closed the book, rose up from the chair and collected his phone. He shot Dean a reassuring smile. "I'll meet you two by the car. Um, take your time."

"To do what, Sam?" Dean stared.

But his brother hastily left the room and after his hair followed closely behind him, Cas wrapped his arms around Dean and squeezed him into a loving hug.

There it was. The letting go of a sigh because his heart had resumed beating softly and now, he was at least hopeful of them being okay.

The hunter melted like butter into Cas homely arms. And now, he was free to breath although the doubts still clouded his mind. He inhaled the warm smell of honey and ginger and adored the other man so much, Dean rose up from the chair, turned into Cas and pressed a soft kiss onto parted lips that were so welcoming. Immediately Cas returned the gesture, moaning into the feel of Dean's warm taste and draping his arms around the hunter's waist.

"I'm sorry I raised my voice at you. I shouldn't have done that," Cas gazed into emerald ones and tried to seek out forgiveness.

Immediately Dean hugged him, wasting no time, "it's okay. You were obviously flustered, and I get it. I mean there is so much we need to learn about each other still. To be honest, Cas, we might spend the rest of our lives learning from each other and that's the beauty of it. I feel like I'm prepared to spend my life knowing you more every day." Caressing Cas' flushed cheek, the hunter rested their foreheads together. "I just want to know if you feel the same way about me too."

"Of course, I do, Dean," Cas rubbed their noses together and smiled. "Now let's go grab that beer."

One beer turned into a second round. The night wrapped the world into a comfortably cool blanket and all three of them sat near a window with a clear view of the lush forest behind the pub. Nothing but a table between them, and a plate of potato fries, fish fingers and Dean's massive beef burger.

Cas was nestled into the corner on his right and Sam sat on the opposite side, reveling in the time off they took to just dwell as normal people would. In a pub, with a few beers between them and a good topic.

"It's an easy question, Dean," the younger Winchester was smiling.

Cas' face appeared pensive. "Can you relate the details again?"

"This time…slower," Dean spun his index finger into a loop motion. "For those of us who aren't as geeky as you are."

Sam, shrugging, cleared his throat and tried again. "Okay, so you're in a room, right? There are no windows. Just a door that is locked from the inside. There's a chair and a table in the room. There's also a guard outside. How do you get out of the room?"

For a full three minutes, no one said a word. The air around them was filled with the tinkle of glasses, clanking of beer mugs hitting together and the uproar from the pool table.

Then suddenly, Dean clapped his hands together in glee. "Ha! I got it!"

"Okay," Sam urged him to continue. "Let's hear what you've got."

"So, you take the two nails out from the table or chair, and you pick the lock," grinning from ear to ear, the older Winchester awaited the approval on his correct answer.

"Dude," Sam scoffed, "how the hell are you going to get the nails out of the table and chair in the first place?"

"You dig em out," Dean stared at his brother. "Well alright, not with your nails. But you could break the damn leg off one, use a splinter and yank the nail right out."

"Dean, that's not the right answer," Sam shielded his face in shame.

"If I might interject…" Cas raised his hand as if he was in a classroom.

"Wait," Dean was on a roll, fueled to prove something to his brother, "you know I'm right. You're just being a dick about it."

Sam sighed. He reached for his beer, took a long swallow and rested the bottle down. "Your answer is wrong, dude. Plain and simple. Try again."

"I have the answer," Cas said in a soft tone, arms folded upon the table. His blue eyes were the warmest shade. "Can I try?"

"No," Dean turned on him and made a face, smiling though to ease away his harsh tone, "I've got the floor, okay? He knows I'm right."

"You're wrong, Dean," Sam was growing frustrated. He dipped two potato fries into ketchup and chewed on them. "Give up. You always had this competitive streak in you since we were kids. As if you always knew the answers to everything. But this time, you're wrong again."

"You are unbelievable!"

"No, you are!" Sam scoffed again and stared back at his brother. "Cas, give it a go."

"No, I just –"

"The keys," Cas interrupted Dean and emerald eyes turned on him, "are in your pocket or somewhere on your person. Maybe inside the room too. Dean, if the door is locked from the inside then the person in the room locked the door. Don't you get it?"

"You…" Dean swallowed the rest of his words and stared at Cas like a deer in headlights. He was astonished after realizing how fucked up the question had been, screwing with his brain just a little bit more than normal. And now he felt stupid but wasn't about to admit it to his brother.

Sam, however, smiled widely in satisfaction and nodded. "Very good, Cas. At least one of you has the brain in the relationship."

"Oh, don't worry. Dean has plenty other qualities," Cas gazed at his lover fondly, chin cupped in his hand. "He's a fantastic kisser. Also, he knows exactly where to bite me when –"

"Cas!" Dean wrapped his arm around the other man and tugged him into a squishy hug. Then he nestled his face into the crook of Cas' left shoulder, blushing deeply. "Don't tell Sam my secrets or else he'll use them on the ladies."

"You two are just adorable," the taller Winchester remarked with a soft grin.

When Dean pressed his lips onto Cas' mouth unexpectedly, Sam stared back in disbelief from his bold display of affection in a public place. Gradually, the two of them ended up deepening the kiss and sighing into Cas' warmth, Dean nuzzled their cheeks together as his body yearned so much to be closer to the other man. And as much as he was totally enjoying the view, the taller Winchester cleared his throat since they had drawn attention from two other men sitting on another table.

"They're just jealous," Dean whispered into Cas' left ear and collected his beer. He took a long sip and swallowed. "Hey, maybe you should invite Mala sometime. Let's double date."

"See, the two of you are already a couple, so, it wouldn't be a double date exactly. Plus, I need to at least give her a heads up that my brother and my best friend are together before I invite her anywhere."

"So, you haven't told her?" Dean gasped dramatically. "Come on man, suppose she bumps into us and I'm holding Cas' hand? Then what? You'll dish it all out in one breath? Or suppose you bring her to the bunker and we're kissing?" Dean gestured at Cas. "You do not want to freak a girl out like that. Trust me, it might not go well on your part."

They left the pub at a quarter to eleven and stumbled out into the alley leading toward the main road.

The night was still cool, a gentle breeze lifting newspapers scattered by bins and sending stray cats chasing after fallen leaves. And without a care in the world, Dean entwined his fingers with Cas' warm ones. He felt on top of the world, almost as if nothing could break him down because he was swimming in happiness and evident bliss. They were a family. Him, Sam, Cas and as Christmas was just around the corner, he was beginning to feel homely also.

"I think we should get a tree," Dean said as Cas walked a few steps in front and tugged him along. Sam peered over his shoulder and smiled. "I think we should get a nice big one and decorate it and make some eggnog. We should also wrap our gifts and put them under the tree and –"

"Hey, fag!"

It happened so fast, one moment, Sam spun around on the spot and stared with a confused look behind him as his brother and Cas did the same. Then he recognized the two men from inside the pub who had thrown nasty glances at their table. Briefly though, possibly for two seconds Sam registered their faces. But then, the taller beefy one stepped up bravely to Dean and even before his brother could react, there was the glint of a knife's blade under the moonlight and then…

Cas cried out Dean's name. It was the most painful sound Sam had ever heard escape from the other man's lips.

Dean buckled, clutching his midsection. Sam, of course by reflex, whipped out his gun and aimed it at the two men but after realizing the disadvantage in terms of weapons, the two of them fled.

"No," Cas whimpered as the older Winchester collapsed in his arms. His blue eyes filled with tears instantaneously. "No, no, no. Dean. Please."

Sam hurriedly rushed over, fearing what he would discover and when he cast his eyes upon the amount of blood that seeped through his brother's fingers that covered the wounds, he knew immediately that they had to rush him to the hospital. And then everything else happened in a blur.

He remembered helping Cas to lift Dean up onto his feet whilst his brother groaned. They walked to the car which was too far away. And after Sam helped Dean into the backseat, his chest growing cold, Cas slipped in after him, the kind of terror in his blue eyes that only worsened any kind of hope. That made Sam literally crumble inside, by the time he settled behind the wheel, his fingers felt like icicles. His heart was beating so damn fast and Cas…Cas had begun to cry.

"Dean, hold on," Sam tried as he revved the engine and pulled out, speeding the Impala down the road like a bullet. "Cas, just…apply as much pressure to the wound, okay?"

Within a minute though, Dean passed out and all he could remember hearing was the humming of the engine. And the feel of Cas' breath on his face. Warm. So warm and his hands were so damn soft against Dean's cheek that was wet.

Why was his face wet?

Was he melting like Olaf?

And then he could hear Cas crying and as he slipped into a pit of darkness, Dean realized that Cas' tears were intermingling with his own and he wasn't Olaf. He probably was losing a lot of blood like a melting Olaf losing a lot of water. But he wasn't Olaf and it made him terribly upset.

Sam, however, was trying his best to focus on the road until the backseat was illuminated by a soft glow of white light. At first, he believed stupidly that Cas was using the torchlight on his phone to ease the darkness. Maybe he was trying to look for something. To assess Dean's wounds. But then when Sam glanced into the depths of the back of the car and he saw where the light source was, he pressed down hard on the breaks.

He couldn't believe it at first. Not really. Not when all this time…all this time he really thought that Cas had lost his powers. But right there in front of his eyes, his best friend who had kept the biggest secret from him, held his shaky palm over Dean's bleeding wounds and he was…he was healing him. Even from where Sam sat, he could see the blood disappearing, as if Dean's body was drinking it all up again hungrily. And then the deep stab wounds just…disappeared under the glow of Cas' hands.

For a long time, the two of them just stared at each other; him and Cas. Sam felt like he couldn't say anything at that point because enough had been said already. So many things were racing through his mind. Like the magnitude of power emanating from Cas' grace. Clearly his best friend wasn't even remotely 50% human but more like 90% and climbing from the way those blue eyes glowed in the dark. And no matter how hard he tried, it was so damn hurtful to stare into the eyes of someone he trusted and wonder why in the world Cas had hid something so huge from him.

And Dean…


	22. Retreating

"So, you mean to tell me," Sam rounded on Cas immediately after sealing Dean inside his room to rest away from their conversation, "that all this time. All this damn time, you've had your grace intact?"

"Sam, I need to be with him," Cas tried to push past the taller Winchester but was denied access. The two of them stared at each other for a full minute. "Okay," Cas huffed out a sigh with his eyes downcast. "Okay, fine."

"Let's talk," Sam stated in a stiff tone, gesturing to the War Room. "Dean's resting up. But I'm not sure that he's going to be fine after he realizes what the hell you've done –"

"I had my reasons," Cas stormed over to the map table and rounded on the other man. After all this time, they were finally having a full-blown argument. They never argued with each other; him and Sam. But now he could see the anger flashing behind emerald eyes, and he could only anticipate the kind of tornado that would form behind Dean's own.

"Cas, you've been lying to Dean –"

"I did it because I was scared, Sam!" Cas was so frustrated from being misunderstood, that he balled his fists and rested them onto the table between them. "And maybe you wouldn't understand this time, but I can only try to explain this to you."

"Go ahead then," Sam gestured, providing the other man with the opportunity to speak. "Tell me what on earth could force you to blatantly lie about still being an angel to Dean when he's been thinking all along that you've lost your grace. Do you know how this looks on your side, Cas? It looks bad. The moment he wakes up, he's going to start questioning how the hell he was healed and what happened. And when fits everything together after he figures it out because he will, believe me he will," Sam licked his lips, "he's going to realize that you have been keeping secrets –"

"Sam, it's a secret I felt that I needed to keep," Cas tried.

Staring in disbelief at the other man, Sam raised his eyebrows. "Do you even know Dean at all, like really know him?"

Cas was the one who sent across a look of amazement. "Why would you even ask me that?"

Sam sighed. He ran his hand over his face. "Dude, Dean hates secrets! He hates when anyone keeps things from him. The biggest fallouts we ever had stemmed from me not telling him the truth. All his damn life he's been hanging by a thread, relying on honesty to survive because he expects the people close to him would trust him enough to tell him the truth. And when he doesn't get the damn truth, he feels terrible about it."

With his chest heaving, Cas leaned onto the back of a chair and lowered his eyes onto the table. "I was going to tell him…I really was. But I couldn't find the right time to do it."

"Then why didn't you tell me at least, huh?" Sam felt so hurt, he couldn't believe that a friend would do something like that. "Why couldn't you come to me and talk to me about it?"

When Cas didn't answer, Sam sunk into the chair and sighed. He couldn't believe that Cas could become so reckless. That Cas could not understand the magnitude of what he had done by concealing something so huge from Dean.

"This reminds me of how hurt I was when the two of you fell out and you blocked me out of your life," Sam said in a saddened tone. "You didn't answer my calls. You didn't even take some time to respond to my texts. And I felt so damn lost, I kept worrying about you, but you never reached out. And now, all I can say is that on my behalf, as your best friend, Cas, I'm so hurt that you couldn't come to me and talk to me."

"Sam—"

"No, let me finish," the taller Winchester held up his hand. "You couldn't even come to me, give me that satisfaction of knowing that I could be trusted. And worst of all, you hid something so huge from the one person who loves you with all his heart. Dean. He has been giving you nothing but the damn truth, Cas. He's been opening up to you. Telling you everything there is that's wrong with his life. And you just couldn't suck it up and come right out and tell him that you're still an angel."

Cas' throat ached. Maybe it was the struggle of holding the tears at bay.

"I should have known, man I should have seen this so long ago," Sam wiped his face and sighed. "When you mentioned that you and Dean still have a connection…that profound bond…when you knew that he was in danger and he was hurt…I should have known that you still had your mojo. He's going to flip out, Cas."

"Don't you think that I know that already?" Cas asked in a strained tone. "Even if I had told him earlier, Dean would have become infuriated because since Chuck screwed up, he's hated anything in connection to Heaven. He cannot fathom the possibility that all this time, every choice that he has made hasn't been orchestrated by God himself. Chuck…pulling all the strings. Repeatedly I have told him that we have made some major choices on our own. That we're real. And he still wouldn't believe that he has free will. Now can you imagine how he will react when he discovers that the man he loves is still connected to something that he hates…" Cas choked on a sob.

Sam allowed him to regain his composure whilst crumbling inside too. Because not too long ago, he had mentioned to Dean that Cas probably didn't want to show off his wings because it reminded him of something his brother detested in general. The existence of a greater entity that pulled all the strings. Now, watching Cas fall in front of him, Sam feared what the aftermath would be like when his brother would find out the truth.

"Cas, you need to tell him," was all Sam could muster up considering the fears. "You need to come right out and say it to him. Tell him the truth. I'm going to try to back you two up in any way that I can, but this is something both of you need to handle on your own. You're a couple now and in order to work through this, I think that you need to come to terms with what you did and the consequences. And I'll tell you now, Cas, Dean will not handle this well at all. Not because of finding out that you're still an angel. But because you lied to him."

"I need time, Sam," Cas croaked, pleading with Sam for understanding.

The other man sighed. "That's something you really don't have right now." And pushing himself up from the chair, Sam dragged his feet out of the room and into the kitchen.

But he couldn't do it, could he?

Cas buried his face into his folded arms and cried. Not only because he was frustrated but because he was terrified of Dean's reaction. And at the same time, he started to feel anger welling up in his chest because of Dean's refusal to believe that anything good could originate from anything celestial when all these years, the hunter had been in love with a celestial being.

How was it fair to feel so conflicted about his true self in the eyes of his lover?

Cas sat at the table for three hours and hated that he was an angel. He hated that he could feel his celestial energy at full force again. He hated that he could still hear the muffled voices on angel radio, and he could still feel the power in Heaven failing as fewer angels remained in existence.

But then, he also loved that he had grown to feel as an angel. To feel things like love and complete attraction towards a human. To feel everything there was in terms of loving a man physically. When he held Dean, his body, and his life force radiated from within and he didn't feel alien to the effects of love.

He chose to do things as any human would, like showering. Or brushing his teeth. Eating peanut butter sandwiches with Dean and sharing cups of tea. He loved to listen to Dean breathing. At nights Dean tried to fall asleep after Cas did, but Cas never slept. He listened for the slow measured breaths originating from Dean and then he lived the rest of the night gazing lovingly at his human.

He felt so torn apart though, that into the next day, Cas was literally lightheaded from holding his breath. Into the afternoon, Dean was still weak and residing in his room behind a locked door. And the attempt Dean made to seal out any of them pounded fear into Cas' heart because he could feel something change between them. He knew that Dean was struggling and like Sam had said, his brother would put two and two together and figure this out fast.

When they did come face to face again though, Cas was sitting in the kitchen trying to take measured sips from a blend of honey and ginger tea. Although he tried, he couldn't calm his nerves. And he began to really question the state of his grace because there were emotions that he felt stronger now. And maybe loving Dean had opened up that side of his celestial existence and in that moment, when Dean showed up in the doorway, Cas stopped breathing.

The two of them stared at each other for a long time before the hunter crossed the threshold and went to the coffee machine.

It was already past four in the afternoon and Dean felt the need to suck up caffeine. The choice alone suggested so much more and whilst Cas mulled over the next half an hour's expectations, his heart would not slow down.

"How are you feeling?" he tried in a weak voice as Dean collected the cup from under the machine and leaned onto the counter.

Emerald eyes met blue ones and there were shadows behind the former shade. Somehow, all the darkness inside Dean's mind had returned. "Like I'm a shitty person."

Cas blinked. His fingers felt so cold wrapped around a warm cup of tea. "Dean, why would you say something like that?"

"You tell me, Cas."

He knew. From the moment Cas realized that the pieces had indeed fitted together, and they were on the same page, he felt as if his entire world had turned upside down. "Dean…"

"What?" the hunter asked in a broken voice, his eyes clouding with tears immediately. "Huh? What do you want me to say to you right now?"

Cas felt his heart crack in many places and he just couldn't see clearly as his eyes glistened. And he really didn't know what to say at that point.

"I want you to tell me that you are willing to listen to why I held back the truth," Cas took measured breaths, his gaze pleading, "because you love me."

"You are unbelievable," Dean shook his head and reaching up, he wiped away the tears on his cheeks. "How the hell can you sit there and justify your actions with the way I feel about you? Are you trying to tell me that it's okay for you to lie to me and then, because I love you, I'll understand?"

"Dean, I felt like I had no choice –"

"You always have a choice!" the other man cried in a hoarse tone, as the coffee cup shook dangerously in his grasp. "Over and over again I keep telling you the same damn thing and it's like you still find a way to screw everything up between us over the years. You've always had a choice, Cas! And I just thought that when you chose me this time, that everything would be different. Because this time, I meant the world to you and I gave everything to you. And you…screwed it up." Covering his face, Dean began to sob.

"Dean," Cas rose up from his place at the table and slowly approached the other man, "I didn't tell you because I know of your feelings towards Chuck and how you despise him."

"You honestly believe that I'm angry because of Chuck?" Dean revealed his eyes and blinked through tears.

Cas' saddened expression revealed so much hurt. "I thought that you would not want to affiliate your heart with something in connection to an entity that tried to kill us all. Remember how you questioned your free will? I kept believing that every time you would look at me, all you would see is the chaos and the wars and why? Because I'm still connected to the one thing you and your brother hate the most. God. You want him dead. So why would I…" Cas' voice broke. He swallowed and took a measured breath in order to face Dean again. "Why would I willingly confess to you that I'm still an angel?"

"Because regardless of how the truth will hurt, we should love each other enough to face it," Dean shook his head. "Now you've just pushed us back a good way, and when I look at you…" the hunter's face contorted as he tried to fight the tears. "When I look at you all I can feel is this really cold feeling inside of my chest—"

"Dean…" Cas pleaded. "Please, I love you."

"I feel so cold right now, every single time my heart beats, it freaking hurts. When I look at you, I'm supposed to feel like I'm safe and I can trust you but I don't feel that right now."

The hunter squeezed out the tears through his eyes. "…because you made me believe that you were as vulnerable as I am as a human. And because I thought you were a human, I couldn't sleep most times, terrified that we would be on a hunt and you'd get wounded and then you wouldn't be able to heal yourself. You made me actually think a lot about what I'd do if I lost you and now…"

Both of them swallowed the thick silence and even when their eyes connected again, the hurt in emerald ones was like a dark, threatening abyss.

"I don't want to lose you either, Dean," Cas tried…feeling his hands grow numb. His knees were so weak. He held onto the table and tried to control his breathing.

"Please tell me that you haven't been tuning into angel radio all this time," the hunter said in a soft, wounded voice. "That you don't know what Chuck is up to and where he is."

When Cas offered him nothing but a look of utter guilt, Dean stared in disbelief at the man he honestly believed could trust him enough to reveal everything there was.

"You don't want us to take him down," Dean finally marveled over the loyalty behind Cas' motives. "After all this damn time, after all he's done, you're going to take his side."

"Stop making assumptions. I'm not taking his side," Cas stared in disbelief. "I can't believe that you would even ponder on such a thought. Dean, this is not about taking sides. This is about the faith of the world hanging on a thread. Have you even realized that the darkness and God must balance each other out at the same time to accomplish a stable universe? If you take one away, then the entire board is flipped over."

"What he did was freaking vile and someone has to do something about it!"

"But you cannot go on a suicide mission, Dean!" Cas fired back. "Trying to kill God will take a lot more than the aid of an angel and two humans."

"What should convince me now that you're on our side?" Dean asked in disbelief. "After all, you're an angel, right? You're part of his army."

"You need to stop second guessing my loyalty to you and Sam," Cas retorted in a cold manner. "I am simply trying to help you face reality here. That defeating Chuck would be murderous. Amara barely managed to weaken him, and she is far more powerful than we will ever be. Do you really think that we could even bring him down?"

"I'm not having this conversation with you," Dean suddenly said, shaking his head and moving towards the door leading out of the kitchen.

"Why?" Cas was growing angry now because of the inability of the other man to really rationalize the situation. He followed close behind. "Don't you want to face the facts? Okay, let's talk about our relationship then –"

"What relationship?" Dean rounded on the other man, his eyes on fire. "The one where you hide things from me? Where you can literally stand in front of me and take the side of something so fucking terrible that tried to kill me and my brother. But then oh right," he forced out a smile. "Nothing bad would happen to you, would it? Every single time you die, your dear old dad brings you back –"

"Dean don't –" Cas warned, his blue eyes like cold ice.

"Don't what?" Dean demanded in a harsh tone, his chest burning from anger. "Don't hit you with the truth? Right now, you're proving to me why the hell I have never trusted your kind in the first place! It's because you're so damn loyal to the company motto. You can't stray away from it!"

"My kind?" Cas' parted lips trembled. His chest heaved. "You're really going to stand there and insult who I am, Dean?"

"I'm not insulting who you are. I'm telling you how crappy your ties with Heaven are."

"Without Heaven," Cas stepped closer, his eyes filled with a thousand fires, "you wouldn't have met the man you claim to love with every ounce of your being."

"I thought the man I love would be brutally honest with me," Dean fired back. "Because all I've done is be completely honest with you. No matter how painful this has been, I've told you nothing but the truth whilst you've been keeping the most important part of your life from me!"

"The most important part of my life is you, Dean!" Cas cried hoarsely.

Dean shook his head.

"That's why me telling you that I'm still an angel wasn't of utmost importance. It's because I have been focusing on you. Constantly. I've been there for you. I've given up everything."

"Cas, you don't know how this feels!"

"I know exactly how it feels!" the other man suddenly vented in frustration. "I've loved you for ten long years, Dean."

"I never asked you to love me," Dean shook his head and swallowed bitter bile. "I have always been flawed. Don't blame me for the mistakes I've made when you've made yours."

"Don't blame me for the mistakes my _kind_ has made either. It does not mean that I am like them. Also, you refuse to face reality, Dean," Cas tried again. "And the reality is that if we even attempt to destroy the entity that fuels the earth with life, then naturally you will die."

"I don't fucking care."

"Can you stop being such a pain in the ass?" Cas was stunned. "Can you stop being so childish?"

"I'm childish?"

"You're the one who's using this as the opportunity to hurt me."

"I'm not the one who lied!" Dean gasped. "You're the one who's hurting me!"

"We're both hurting each other right now, and we need to stop this."

"How could I be so stupid?" Dean stepped back as tears leaked from his eyes. "How the hell could I even believe that loving me would change you as much as loving you changed me? At the end of the day, I'm the hopeless crappy human who fell for you and you're just another piece on Chuck's Game of Life board."

"Dean, we need to stop this right now," Cas warned. "Before we expounded on our feelings for each other, you fell in love with me without realizing it. And I have always been an angel. I have always had these…crappy ties to Heaven. If you can stand in front of me and judge me for the bad decisions the rest of the angels and Chuck have made, then I really must ask you to reassess your feelings for me. Because you claim to not care whether I'm human or an angel. But right now, it feels as if you'd rather have me only if I'm a human than when I'm an angel who has ties to your worst enemy."

"Cas…" The hunter inhaled deeply as his forehead creased from scowling.

"I can't help it, Dean. This is who I am. And I'm sorry that I withheld the truth from you, but I anticipated this outburst. I have had terrible premonitions about it. The moment I discovered that my grace had been restored, I began to actually hate myself because of your negative views on Chuck. But you've been drowning in your own pain and your own struggle with acceptance of who you are, that you never really noticed how wounded I have been." Cas stepped back when Dean tried to touch him.

And because of that one small gesture of denial from an attempt at affection, the hunter stared back and felt his heart crack. He couldn't believe that Cas would flinch like that.

"I hate that you lied to me," Dean tried to hang on to the sliver of hope between them.

Cas, however, shook his head and stared back, his blue eyes flat. "I hate that you pushed every single moment that I've loved and cared for you aside to raise your voice at me. To lash out at me with horrible words. I've had enough, Dean. I really have."

Finally, the tears flowed like a river. Dean stood there, and felt so cold inside, he felt as dead as ever. "So that's it," he said in a voice that was barely a whisper. Here they were, at the end of the rope and his fingers had burns on them from trying to hold on. From trying to push through the pain just enough so that he could still believe in what they had.

"That's what?" Cas couldn't breathe when he witnessed the hunter's eyes drowning.

"You're calling it quits on us."

"What?" Cas stared in disbelief at the other man. For a moment, he couldn't speak.

"If you're ending this, then don't expect me to give up too because –"

"Dean!" Cas cried hoarsely, "would you just shut up? We've only had our first fight together as a couple. This doesn't mean that I'm going to end our relationship. Yes, you have said many hurtful things that I will possibly cry all night thinking about. But you were honest with me about your feelings. And I was honest with you. It doesn't mean that after ten years of loving you, I will give up."

"I just thought…" Dean stopped, swallowed and felt angry still. Because the wounds were still fresh.

When anyone lied to him, he kicked up a storm. But Cas wasn't just anyone. He was so much more. And now, Cas was really screwing with his mind because no one had ever proven to him that he was worth it like Cas. That even after arguing wildly, Cas still held on. And the more he thought about it, the more he felt so stupid with the way he reacted.

"You thought that I would break up with you?" Cas shook his head. "Dean, I know that what I did was wrong. I've accepted that. But right now, after what you've said to me, I need some time to myself to process a few things. And I am going for a drive. I'll grab a few groceries whilst I'm gone and –"

"Don't leave me," Dean suddenly said with so much pain in his voice, the other man stopped after almost leaving the room and turned back. The doubts flapped wildly inside Dean's chest.

"I can't stay here with you right now," Cas tried to keep his voice level although he was crumbling inside. "We both need to cool off or else we might have another go at expelling our anger."

"Please tell me you love me," the hunter pleaded. "At least say those three words."

"Dean…" Cas stared at the other man.

But Dean would not give up. He reached for Cas' hand, and tugged him in and when he crushed their lips together the verdict was reached. Cas didn't kiss him back. Instead, what Dean felt was the brutal truth of knowing that whatever was said between them in the heated argument, everything had changed. And when Cas didn't kiss him back, he stepped away slowly, hands falling to his sides and Dean blinked through the tears.

"Okay," he said, nodding as his chest heaved. Nothing made sense anymore in his life at that point. "So, you can't even kiss me. Go then."

"Fine," Cas nodded slowly, his face stolid. And turning on the spot, he began to walk away. But whilst climbing the steps inside the bunker, feeling like he couldn't wait to rush outside and scream his anger to the sky, there were rushed footfalls behind him. And he stopped.

"Cas," Dean croaked from behind him, instantly forcing tears to the other man's eyes. "I just want you to know that if you leave, and you don't come back, you'll break my…heart. And I'll believe that I deserve it because I've never believed that I deserve you. So, if you don't come back this time, I'll know that we're…over and…" there was a few seconds of silence. "And I'll keep pushing until I can't anymore."

As much as Cas wanted to turn around and run into Dean's arms, he was so conflicted from the things the hunter had said to him, that he continued climbing the steps. He continued because he really couldn't stay any longer, not whilst they were mad at each other. And the more distance he put between the two of them, Cas sobbed as his chest felt like it would explode.

He reached the Impala and after trying to open the door, realized that he hadn't collected the keys from Dean. But he couldn't go back inside the bunker. Not when Dean was probably crying at the bottom of the steps.

How could he have been so damn ignorant? Cas thought about himself. How could he have hidden the truth? Regardless, he should have trusted Dean enough to confess right away. And now, Cas crumbled onto the grass by the front wheel of the Impala, buried his face in his arms and he cried. He cried because he always seemed to screw everything up. He couldn't believe he had argued back with Dean. The things he had said. How he had defended Chuck when he despised him as much as Dean did.

But every single time someone threatened the place he used to call home; Heaven, Cas automatically got defensive and he hated his response. And now, he felt worthless and lost without Dean next to him. He felt terrified that he couldn't kiss him back. That he pulled away his hand from Dean's touch. And after walking a mile down the road, Cas walked another then another until he ended up in a bookstore. And after aimlessly perusing volumes that meant nothing to him really, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

Turning around, Cas was greeted by a face that drenched him in a cold, sickening feeling.

"Hello, son," Chuck said smiling warmly as something dangerous glinted behind his eyes. "Missed me?"


	23. Distortion

By the time Cas digested what was occurring around them both, his shoes landed in the soften ss of lush grass. There was the sound of lapping waves and upon turning to face the spectacular view, Cas marveled over the familiarity of every single thing. Even the fishermen casting their nets as the orange sun sunk lower behind the hills. And the presence of small boats slicing through the surface of Loch Laggan that looked like glass. Even the rolling grasslands couldn't free the thought of slipping off his shoes and running around the expansive fields.

"One of your favorite places that you have visited the most," Chuck stood beside Cas, hands behind his back and admiring the view with a smile. "I've got to tell you, Cas, out of all my children, you've always been my favorite. And the reason why I adore you so much is because of your loyalty, and your inability to allow any kind of distractions to stray you away from your purpose in Heaven."

"My purpose?" Cas squinted at the other man. "I have no purpose anymore."

"Oh, but you do," Chuck turned a smile as bright as the setting sun. "Don't you remember the good old days when the main goal on your agenda was to protect a certain human at all costs?"

"I…" Cas blinked, feeling his throat tighten from the mention of Dean. The pain of their argument still left fresh claw marks on his heart. "I did the best I could although the apocalypse still unfolded."

"Sad details," Chuck sighed, folded his arms and surveyed the view with a serious look now, "also sad that you felt the need to defy me over and over again by completely blurring the lines of your job."

Cas, turned to the one being who should have been radiating with the warmest glow of pride and love and he felt nothing but maliciousness.

"Angels were not created to fall in love with my creation, Castiel."

"Maybe you should understand how everything works, but I really had no choice in the matter," Cas said matter-of-factly. "From the moment I cast my eyes on Dean, I began to experience a sense of…newfound energy. I began to have feelings. And over the years although I have tried to defy the way I feel, I have failed miserably."

Chuck sighed. He tasted his lips and reached into his pants pocket. Wearing a sharp khaki pants suit with a matching jacket did not add any kind of glorification to his supreme form. In fact, his aura was dull, his complexion pasty.

"Castiel, the more you speak about the abomination titled Dean Winchester, I am beginning to feel nauseated." Fishing a small pack of Tic Tac from his pocket, he shook out two and offered Castiel. The angel declined.

"Listen, I'm a fair guy. I've always been. Heck, I created the man you've been fornicating with but –" he rolled his eyes when Castiel sent him a glare, "…I can't let you continue to stain your image like this, son. At some point you will have to decide if you would prefer to stay an angel or leave Heaven because you cannot have the best of both worlds. And right now, from where I'm standing," Chuck laughed, "you're kind of forcing my hand, man."

"Do you think that I would even sympathize with anything you have to say?" Cas' chest was bubbling from anger, "after the fact that you tried to kill the Winchesters and placed hundreds of humans' lives in danger?"

"What can I say?" Chuck shrugged, still smiling, "I was angry and when I'm angry, I throw tantrums. Like tsunamis and earthquakes and floods and tornadoes."

Castiel's clenched fists reflected exactly what was occurring in his mind. "I will choose Dean Winchester over and over again –"

"Even if I suck all your existence out through a straw and throw you into the Empty?" Chuck turned a Colgate smile at Castiel. Then after two seconds, he laughed, and clapped the angel on his back.

"Kidding! It's a joke, come on, lighten up. Killing Dean would hurt me far less than killing you. I find that the simpler things in life, like getting rid of the Winchesters, are beautiful moments. Anyway, the state of Heaven right now," Chuck changed the topic when Castiel's blue eyes glowed a piercing blue, "have you been up there lately?" Chuck whistled. "Man, it's bad. Talk about running low on fuel. No kind of generator can fix that."

The last time he had been up there, Naomi had informed Castiel of the absolute necessity in finding an arch angel that could power up Heaven. Without an arch angel, or Jack, and from the thought of Jack, Castiel's chest ached, there could be no continuation of a very powerful concept that had existed before God created the first two humans. Now, there were close to five angels remaining, the rest were lost and wandering the earth, definitely absent of grace. And their only hope was Michael who had become lost in the wind.

"I want to take you up there so that you can actually see for yourself what has been happening," Chuck suddenly suggested and from the moment the words slipped out of his mouth, Castiel was consumed in a sense of dread.

"No," he said quickly, "I can't comply this time."

"Because of your domestic dispute with Dean?" Chuck asked scornfully, "Cas, come on. Whatever you've created or think that you've created with this man will not flourish. You will always take two steps forwards and then two steps backwards. And do you know why? Hmm?" he eagerly sought out the answer on Castiel's face. "You're an angel and he's a human. And every time he looks at you, he will be reminded of me plotting out his life on a graph, proving to him that there is no such thing as free will."

"Then if free will doesn't exist," Castiel frowned, "how did Dean and I fall in love with each other even though you detest it?"

"That's not love!" Chuck said distastefully. "That's lust. When you were losing your grace, you had physical needs. Dean can't even accept your physical form. He can't even welcome the idea of having sex…with you –"

"Just stop it," Castiel said angrily, his chest heaving as he felt somewhat…guilty of the other man's words. As he remembered Dean holding back and every single second that slipped by. Castiel began to give in to realize that although he had been trying to swallow every single possibility of denial, Dean really had been hesitant all along. Whilst he…had been open and willing to give himself, all of himself to the one man he believed loved him.

"The pieces of the puzzle are falling into place, huh?" Chuck smiled whilst studying the wheels in Castiel's brain rolling around and being fueled by doubt. "Dean Winchester will never spend an eternity with you. Very soon, he will run into the arms of a woman, any busty woman and he will break your heart. I know you have a heart, Castiel. Angels aren't supposed to be as human as you are. But you've attached yourself so much to this flawed man, that he's going to bring you down as he brings down himself. And just when he finds happiness in what he considers 'normal'," Chuck paused and felt refreshed when a look of pain filled blue eyes, "you'll be cast aside."

For a long time, the two of them stood side by side and stared at the sky dusted by a deep shade of orange. The setting sun showed a slice of fire between two hills. Fishermen rowed their boats to the shore in the west. Castiel though, was thinking of one thing only even though his favorite place on earth was becoming even more beautiful by the second. And that was Dean.

If he could honestly expel his feelings for Dean Winchester at that point, then he would have to confess that he was conflicted. He was conflicted and he was slowly growing frustrated and angry. Angry because Dean never really trusted him, did he? If he had trusted him, then why did he hold back from revealing the truth about himself like his reliance on pain tablets. Like when he snuck out a few Tylenol and popped them, believing that Cas couldn't see what he was doing.

Or when Dean disappeared into the mall, whilst Cas and Sam were shopping. Then after they returned to the car, as Cas busied himself with packing their stuff away in the trunk of the Impala, he accidentally upturned one of the bags Dean had been carrying. And inside the bag, Cas discovered a bottle of Valium, a bottle of whisky, and aspirin.

Cas remembered how his head spun dangerously when he stared at the combination. When he instantly was washed over with paranoia, wondering if Dean had reverted to depression again. If he was really planning to jump into a pit of darkness and this time permanently. Was he planning to kill himself? Or to slowly keep poisoning himself by ingesting barbiturates and alcohol, a deadly concoction that could push him into a coma.

How could Dean reassure Cas that what they had was meaningful and worth it when his concealed actions proved otherwise?

Why didn't he reveal the demons in his past without Castiel having to pry guiltily just to push aside the pain and seek out the cracks? Dean actually claimed that he feared what the future would hold for them. But was he really trying to warn Castiel of his honest feelings? Of deserting him eventually to live a normal life?

Everything felt like a façade suddenly when Chuck rested a reassuring hand on Castiel's back, that the angel tried so hard to fight the doubts and still…he couldn't swallow the pain of loving a man who constantly took him for granted. Loving a man who turned away from him just when they were at their weakest points. When Dean had been injured, every single time, Cas sheltered him and over and over again, the hunter built a wall between them.

What hurt most of all was the fact that Dean never thanked him for saving his life after the hunter had been stabbed. His wounds could have killed him and Dean, after realizing that Castiel still had his grace, the same grace that healed him, still felt the need to lash out. To throw hurtful words at him about his 'kind' and his connections to a monster.

Sure Chuck wasn't exactly the father of the year but neither was John Winchester. Yet, Dean oftentimes commemorated his father's life on earth through perusing his journals, relying on John's words, keeping his memory alive.

Dean had hurt Castiel in a way that felt like trauma. Like being involved in a tragic accident, and hours after, then the pain of losing a limb and the realization of it all seeped into your mind. And because he loved Dean, he never really understood how they were so reliant on each other. Mostly Dean. Every single time, Castiel had to comfort him. Hold him. Soothe him. And the more Cas thought about it, he realized that Dean never asked if he was okay. Dean never went the extra mile by tending to him as much as Cas took care of him. And maybe he should have felt ashamed of himself for using a measuring stick to assess their relationship but Castiel's anger fueled every single thing.

"Come with me to Heaven," Chuck said and his voice sounded distant. "Come with me and let me show you the state of the place you once called home."

And even before he could comply, Castiel was transported into the depths of a place that at first was so shadowed, he couldn't determine where they were. Until the white lights flickered briefly and he found himself in corridor A of souls reveling in their idea of happiness behind closed doors.

But something was awfully wrong. Before when he entered Heaven, Castiel used to feel a sense of power, of the other angels' graces reaching out to him and drawing each other together like magnetic forces. But now, he felt cold and icy inside, almost as if the air had a terrible draft. And there was the absence of the homely feeling, of togetherness and a sense of comfort.

"Everyone has fled," Naomi informed Cas, minutes after Chuck had disappeared suddenly. There was so much fear in her eyes, even her hands were trembling. "The two angels that remained recently had to vacate Heaven to provide help in the middle east and I've never heard from them since. It seems," Naomi said wringing her hands, "that they have willingly cut off their ties with the rest of us."

"But I've been hearing murmurs on angel radio," Castiel frowned.

"Murmurs but they are untraceable because Heaven is failing. We are being defeated in every single part of the world as people are losing their faith and God isn't entirely providing any kind of hope anymore. Do you realize what this means for the future of the world that was created for us to protect, Castiel?" she stared at him earnestly. "It means that from the lack of our guidance, earth will fall. Demons will take up power and pervert every single human soul. Your friends…the Winchesters," Naomi considered him with a pitiful look, "will become corrupt just like everyone else and –"

"Little brother," came a very familiar voice behind him and immediately, Castiel's chest was cut across with an icy feeling. "Naomi, I'd like to say that it's good to see you but frankly I don't like you," Michael sneered at the angel who had a record of torturing angels. "You, on the other hand," he seethed at Cas, "I like you more now that you've been rebelling against every single sliver of grace. Although I hate Dean Winchester, I must commend you on your bond with him."

Castiel, on the other hand, was further conflicted after he realized that Adam's face stared back at him. Dean's eyes. Just the memory of that particular shade of emerald wounded Castiel because he had to confess that he missed the hunter terribly already. He couldn't believe that they were hopeless at that point. Not really. But after some time when he reckoned that he wouldn't be returning to earth for a while, he remembered Dean's last words to him.

"_Cas, I just want you to know that if you leave, and you don't come back, you'll break my…heart. And I'll believe that I deserve it because I've never believed that I deserve you. So, if you don't come back this time, I'll know that we're…over and…And I'll keep pushing until I can't anymore."_

He never believed that he deserved Cas.

Maybe that was the part that wounded the angel the most. Knowing that a human was so blinded by his painful past and his tortured soul that he couldn't believe that he could be loved. Or he could be comforted. Or something special could happen to him and maybe, this time, it would be the best thing to have ever happened to him. Now because of Dean's disbelief, there was the presence of cracks that spread like vines through their relationship and through those cracks seeped doubt and reluctance and now…

Now they were separated from each other. They were part of two different worlds. And the more Cas thought about the last time he stared into those green eyes that held a million torches burning behind them, he could feel nothing but uncertainty. And the feeling of Dean literally grasping at the fringes around his belief in love.

Dean had been falling apart and although Cas wanted to collect every single broken piece and try to fit the hunter back together, he wasn't allowed to hold every single piece. Sometimes he felt like he was constantly being cheated. Like they never could sit down and openly talk about themselves without a wall slowly climbing up. And maybe their conversations really felt honest and true and with depth but deep down inside, why did Cas feel so much pain whenever their words died down into sleep?

Michael continuously lamented on how he could save Heaven but Chuck had to relinquish some of the power to him. Over and over again their voices droned on inside Castiel's head and yet, he still kept breaking inside.

He still wanted to run back to Dean because if he didn't, then they would be over. Then he would break Dean again and this time, Castiel wasn't so sure that the hunter would ever forgive him again. That the other man would ever heal or push past the pain. After all, although Dean had taken him for granted, his mind was fractured, his demons were never defeated. And if their relationship ended, then Castiel was afraid that the man he loved with all his heart would fall so low, he wouldn't be able to recover.

And through it all, Chuck felt the pain between the Winchester he hated the most and the son he couldn't care more about. And he fed off of that pain because he wanted Dean to suffer. He wanted him to give up, to let go and to fade away. So naturally, because his motives were simply just in his mind, Chuck sped time up.

One day passed and then four. Within half an hour in Castiel's mind, two weeks had passed on earth. Then three. And through it all, Chuck grinned like a fool because he understood how love could become lethal, especially unrequited love.

* * *

Dean, as much as he tried to digest how unfair he had been towards Cas, how he shouldn't have overreacted, he began to struggle terribly.

When one week dragged by with the absence of those ocean eyes staring into his, the hunter knew immediately that Cas had walked out on him for good this time. That Cas had given up because Dean had fucked up again and again. And now, he had no other chance to make things right. This time, he had done the ultimate wrong.

Drinking was what he resorted to because he had to show Sam a composed face. He had to provide a solid belief in his lies; telling his brother that Cas had gone out on his own to find some new leads on Chuck. And because he kept lying and lying, although his brother knew most of the truth, Dean suffered from painful guilt.

"Look, I know the two of you had a fight," Sam said to his brother one afternoon whilst sifting through books on aliens. "I can't keep pretending like I didn't hear the shouting contest inside the kitchen because I did. And because you're trying so hard to keep the truth from me, I'm seriously worrying about you now."

"Don't worry about me," Dean smiled as his eyes watered. He appeared so downright lost, his brother's heart ached. "Hey, I'm fine. Now that you know that he left because I screwed up, you should be happy because at least your best friend ran away from the freaking monster I am –"

"Dean," Sam shook his head, "you're not a monster. You were just upset. As was I. Heck, I was pissed off at him for not telling us that he still had his grace. We had a conversation too. But what I don't like is you taking all the blame."

"Cheers to your lousy brother who can't be in a relationship that lasts," Dean lifted his glass of whisky.

Sam sighed. "Do you honestly think that Cas would break up with you?"

The older Winchester actually laughed. "It's been almost twenty days, five hours, thirty-two minutes and…" Dean checked his watch, "…would you look at that. Thirty seconds and counting and he hasn't even called me. Did he call you? I tried calling him but he's turned off his phone."

"Likewise," Sam frowned although marveling over the effort his brother had focused on to keep track of the time. "But hey, don't give up as yet, okay?"

"Now you're beginning to piss me off," Dean scowled. "I told him that if he leaves and doesn't come back then I'll know that we're over. And it's almost three weeks, Sam."

"Dean…"

"I screwed up, alright?" The older Winchester raised his voice, slammed the glass down on the table and rose up weakly. "I pushed aside every damn thing that he's ever done for me, all the times he's helped me heal myself, how he saved my life. And I abused him with every single hurtful thing I could find inside of me. Because why? Because I'm so freaking weak, I can't even love myself so how in the world could I love another person? How could I make a relationship work when I don't even have friends or I've never been able to make any other relationship last in my life?"

"Dean, all I see is the two of you working through things. You have plenty of baggage. But you're not the one who gets to decide that you've done everything wrong, okay? Cas walked out on you. I don't like that he hasn't called or he hasn't said anything. But he's selfishly decided to take some time out for himself whilst he knows that you're wounded. So don't stand there and tell me that you're to be blamed for all of it."

For a long time, Dean sat there in silence and gently swirled the glass around in small circles. His emerald eyes took on a darker shade. His breathing was shallow and his heartrate quickened when he tried to reflect on Cas' smile. Or the way his gravelly voice dipped lower at times when he was trying to reassure Dean of his worth. Or when Cas couldn't contain his laughter and he snorted in the most adorable way.

After a while, Sam wallowed in silence and then he simply returned to his books, all the while hoping that his brother was at least realizing that he couldn't beat himself up completely over what had occurred.

Dean, on the other hand, finished the bottle of whisky and within two hours, he had slipped out into the night after Sam dozed off.

When the younger Winchester finally stirred merely six hours after, he blindly stared at the vacant chair and frowned deeply. But barely, Sam had enough time to process the fact that his brother had resorted to the confinements of his room or perhaps wandered outside. Because about five minutes after rubbing the sleep from his eyes, there was the distinct sound of the flutter of wings and Castiel entered the scene, stage left, wearing a deepened frown and wet blue eyes.


	24. Faithful

For a full minute they merely stared at each other because after their last conversation, Sam had declared his distaste in his best friend concealing the truth. Now though, after they reached into their hearts and tapped into that comforting bond between them, Cas' stare softened and then Sam sighed.

"Where is Dean?" the angel asked in a hoarser voice than normal. "Is he sleeping?"

"Dude," Sam jerked his chin at the empty whisky bottle a few feet away on the table, "and welcome back, by the way. You took your precious time coming back this time."

Cas frowned deeply. "I've only been gone a few hours, Sam."

"A few hours?" the younger Winchester stared incredulously at the other man. At first, he couldn't formulate an ideal reply.

"What's wrong?" Cas pressed on, worry seeping into his tone now. By then, he was slowly beginning to fall into a sickening pool of worry about Dean. And with every passing second, Cas found that he couldn't take full breaths.

Sam shook his head. "Buddy, you've been gone for three weeks tops. Where the hell were you?"

Cas suddenly felt as if he was standing in a bitter winter storm. "Three weeks?" his stunned expression was convincing enough to the other man. "Sam, I left the bunker hours ago. Then I met Chuck and we –"

"Wait," the younger Winchester sat up straighter and he stared back in disbelief. "You met Chuck? Cas, what the hell did he say?"

"He basically told me that my relationship with Dean is unacceptable and I have two choices. I can either remain as an angel, or I have to fall. Where is Dean, Sam?"

Sam however, was stunned beyond a doubt. "Fall as in lose your wings and become fully human? Isn't that painful for an angel? Wouldn't it mean that instead of gradually losing your grace, your wings will be ripped away from you? Dude, that's…" when Cas grimaced, Sam shuddered. "Nah, man. No way in hell you're going to go through so much pain. I'm sure that Dean would never ever allow you to make that choice."

"Where is Dean?" Cas tried again, and this time in such a pained voice, Sam's heart melted. "I need to know where he is. Is he here? In the bunker? I don't feel his energy but then maybe he's weak. Sam."

"He was here, drowning in alcohol. Only thing he's been doing since you left because like he said, when you walked out and never came back, he took it to mean that you called quits on him –"

"I didn't call…quits on us, Sam," Cas blinked through tears. "There are only a few things that could possibly make me walk away from Dean and I don't ever believe that he would commit those things. So I can't quit that easily."

"I know you didn't, bro," Sam offered a sympathetic look. "Judging from what I'm seeing on your face right now, I know you never walked out permanently and I don't know what the hell happened to you but Dean, well, he's trying to look like he's got his shit together. But he isn't doing so well again. Most days since you left, he's been going out for long drives and coming back home in the afternoon without saying anything to me. What happened, Cas? You claim that you only left hours ago so how could time fly by so fast?"

"I'm assuming Chuck contributed to this," Cas sank into a chair and buried his face inside his hands. He felt somewhat terrified of what had been happening to Dean. "He sped up time. He can do that. I should have known that he would do something like this. How could I be so stupid? One moment he dragged me to Scotland and then in the next, I was swept into Heaven to face an almost demolished sight."

"You mean the place is collapsing?" Sam blinked in disbelief.

"Frankly, at this point, I don't care about anything else but Dean. Where do you think he is at this time of the night?"

"Best bet? Somewhere parked staring at nothing in particular and dreaming of you. I'd say give him about three hours to come back. And don't worry, man," Sam noted the worry in those blue eyes and sighed. "If he doesn't come back by 4am, we're going to find him. In the meantime, tell me about what happened in Heaven because I could use a break from reading up on aliens."

"UFOS?" Cas tried to swallow the fear on Dean's whereabouts, tried to distract himself, but he feared the worst.

Whilst Sam closed the book titled 'Aliens and Assumptions', somewhere a few miles away inside a quaint drinking hole, a bartender with a pot belly was slowly wiping away the grime from the prior night's ramblings. He scowled at the amount of liquor discarded on the floorboards, hated the wasteful food left on tables and realized that one of his pool sticks was missing. And after he swore loudly, directly upstairs as the clock crept to 3am, Dean's eyes suddenly snapped open.

At first, he was entirely confused because he felt very cold, like every inch of his body and the blanket; a rose red; was lightly strewn over him in a fashion that suggested only one thing.

When a warm body stirred beside him and a soft leg brushed his thigh, Dean practically leapt out of the bed and completely lost his mind. Within one full minute, he grabbed at his clothes blindly, feeling so cold inside, almost as if he was a dead man walking.

What the hell? Dammit, his boxers, his jeans were turned on the wrong side so he fought with that for a while. Then whilst he was reaching for his shirt and trying to button himself up as a migraine pounded his head, the figure on the bed groaned.

A well-manicured hand stretched above a tousled head of red hair and then a narrow face peeked out from the depths of the rose red sheet.

For a long time. Dean stared into the bluest shade of eyes and could literally feel his heart slowly becoming poisoned. How could he have been so stupid? How much alcohol had he consumed to actually chase after a skirt when for three damn weeks, he had chased after nothing else but the booze? Night after night, Dean had turned down women. Why? Because he simply could not even look at anyone else and find them as deserving of his attention like the way Cas deserved his…

Blindly Dean fought through the tears as he slipped into his jeans.

"Honey," the woman quickly sat up on the bed and stared, "don't cry. Wait, listen."

"No," Dean shook his head vigorously and started to head towards the door, "I really can't…"

"If you're thinking that we slept together, then we didn't!" she said quickly, springing off the bed and leaping towards the door to press it close. The two of them stared at each other. "Listen, okay?" she tried to gather his hand into hers but Dean pulled away as if he had been burnt. "My name's Amanda," she said holding her hands up defensively. "Shit, I don't expect you to remember what happened last night because you were wasted but before you head out thinking you did the worst thing ever, I just want you to know that we didn't have sex."

Dean took in a shaky breath, and he couldn't even look into the distinct shade of blue eyes that laced his blood with poison. That was slowly killing him from guilt that he felt weak and terrified and lost.

So, they weren't intimate with each other. For a moment, he thought that it was relief washing over him, only to discover that he had stepped under the A.C unit. Then was when Dean felt his heart literally being clenched inside a fist of fear. Of knowing that somewhere along the line, he had fucked up. And now, he was standing in a woman's bedroom, hair wild and nothing but her word to go on that they didn't have sex.

"You were a mess last night," Amanda continued in a soft voice as she created distance between them. "Truth is, after you tried to beat every damn asshole at pools, I tried to seduce you. Brought you upstairs here thinking I'd get a piece of you but…" she sighed, collected a bottle of water from her vanity and handed it over to Dean. He took it hesitantly, eyes still lowered.

"You couldn't even get it up firstly," she leaned against the wall facing him. "Then you started crying. At first, I thought that you were shit. I mean, the men we get around here aren't that hard to sleep with but you." Amanda seemed impressed. "You wowed me. Especially when you started talking about the love of your life…what's her name again?" she tapped her chin and tried to remember. "Oh right, Cas! So jealous of that bitch."

Dean immediately tried to bite his smile. But then, deep down inside, the tsunami of pain from the mention of that particular name seemed to slowly kill him. He couldn't even breathe properly.

"I mean, you kept going on and on about how you miss Cas and you want Cas to come back. And you can't sleep with me because you're only in love with Cas. Let me ask you this though since you are sober now," she pointed as if scolding him,

"Where the fuck is this bitch in the first place, huh? Why did she leave you? If she's so damn perfect, then why are you killing yourself with booze whilst she is off somewhere frisking about, huh?" Amanda planted a hand on her hips, red hair tumbling onto her shoulders.

She had delicate features, defined cheekbones and a prominent forehead. She was beautiful. That much Dean could ascertain in all honesty. But he couldn't see past the injustice of seeking out someone who owned the exact shade of eyes that belonged to the man who owned his heart.

"Don't answer," she shook her head and sighed. "Way to make a girl feel like even after caring for you, and your feelings enough to have you sleep in her bed to wear off the booze, you still can't talk to me."

Trying to gather his composure, Dean decided that he should be grateful for at least the small favor of her accommodating him. "Thank you," he said stiffly and cleared his throat. "For not taking advantage of me."

"Don't be smart," she scowled.

"Dammit, I wish I could be chatty but I am at a loss for words."

"Then at least tell me about her," Amanda said softly, deciding to perch herself on the bed about two feet away from Dean. "Talk to me because you seem like a really good guy. You're dedicated to this person and that's something that I admire because most guys who pass through here, even the married ones, they don't give a shit about commitment. They just give it all up; the ring, the vows everything."

"But you, the way you talked about her, she must be the most precious thing ever. I'm thinking one of those fully educated gals who was lucky enough to tie down a good looker like you. And man is she lucky. You're fucking gifted in all areas and I mean…" her blue eyes lowered between Dean's legs, "all areas."

He had to laugh. Shaking his head, Dean could truly feel that the woman sitting next to him was indeed a warm-hearted person who honestly cared.

"First of all," he said batting away her compliments, "it's not what you think."

"Huh?"

"There is no girl," Dean painfully admitted, allowing their eyes to meet as he offered up a soft look.

For a long time, Amanda merely tried to search green eyes and eventually, she stared back in disbelief. "Fucking hell. She's married, isn't she?"

"Not a she," Dean gave up, realizing that he couldn't care less about anyone's judgments at that point. "He…" and his voice cracked, "is not married. But he walked out on me because I couldn't…" Dean suddenly shook his head as his eyes squeezed shut. He tried to breathe. "He couldn't stay because I'm not that good of a guy."

"Oh, honey," Amanda clicked her tongue and offered a look of disbelief, "you're the Mister Right that every girl and gay guy should run after. Fuck, straight men probably want to screw you too because of your looks and charm. I don't get a bad guy vibe from you at all except that you're pretty tough and got a lot of shadows behind your peepers. But man, if he left, like really lost his shit and walked out, then he ain't deserve your love."

Sighing, Dean fixed the collar of his shirt and slipped his feet into his boots. Maybe she couldn't quite understand the entirety of the situation because of her lack of information. But he had his moments, he really did. He could pile everything up inside of his chest, passing the time with fake smiles, believing that he was doing pretty okay and then boom. All the negatives came tumbling out like what had occurred between him and Cas. All the drama… and the aftermath now was simply painful and regretful.

"You going to find him?" Amanda kept scrutinizing his face as if waiting on his reply. "Is he like…good looking?" suddenly she was smiling mischievously. "Imagining you screwing a guy is so hot. I guess it's why men like the idea of women screwing each other. Oh!" she squealed and clapped her hands in glee. "You've got to tell me more about him. Is he shorter than you?"

Dean shook his head and smiled in awe over her intrigue. "Yeah. About two inches."

"Aww!" Amanda hugged herself. "So he stands on his tippy toes to kiss you. The two of you slept together?"

"You going to wrap this up soon?" he offered her a lopsided smile. "I've got to head home before my brother throws a fit."

"He has a brother," Amanda swooned, shooting heart eyes at the ceiling. "Please tell me he's straight, single and hot."

"Oh he's all of the above," Dean got up and patted her on the shoulder. "Thanks for lending an ear. But I really got to go."

"Let me walk you out," she grabbed a denim jacket, and in the shortest black pants ever created by the fashion industry, Amanda yanked open the door and led the way.

Dean, had he not been smitten over Cas, would have eyed the red head's rear all the way out the door. But instead, he shyly avoided the invitation and fell into step beside her as she hooked their hands together like they were the best of friends.

"Man, I got to tell ya, I've always wanted a gay friend."

"Not gay," he said smiling as they descended the stairs, "not straight either."

"Whatever, once you cross the line, you ain't going back. I slept with a girl once," she confessed with a shrug. "Didn't really like it but once you got a good cock in your mouth, you can't forget the feel. You get me?"

"Come on!" he sent her a look of utter disbelief even though his neck was dusted red.

"What?" she poked his arm and giggled. Hopping down the steps, Amanda stuck out her tongue. "You were right when you told me you're a bad boy, Dean. You just love this guy so much."

"I really do," Dean admitted in the softest tone. "You can't begin to imagine."

Amanda sighed. "Listen, I know we hardly know each other but in a short piece of time, we've talked about a lot. So I just want you to know that I wish you the best. I want you to find him and I hope he takes you back, okay?"

"Son of a bitch," Dean scowled. "You're making me mushy. This isn't a chick flick moment."

"Come on, give me a kiss before you leave. We part as pals. And you can come by any time you need to have a chit chat, okay?"

Without a warning, Amanda tugged Dean's lips onto hers and initiated a reassuring kiss as if sealing a promise. And truthfully, he felt nothing but sincerity in knowing that he had somehow gained a friend in the most unusual way and…

"Dean."

From the moment he heard his name, every single sign of humor slipped off of Dean's face.

Colder. That's how he remembered feeling. Colder and yet…deep down inside there was a raging fire burning that was threatening to kill him. Because his brother wasn't alone. Sam came running up to him and stopped about four feet away but in tow was no other than the last person on earth Dean wanted to witness him in the arms of another woman.

Cas' face was reminiscent of someone who had just been on the receiving end of the most terrible news ever; a death of a loved one. And maybe what Dean witnessed in that moment was Cas literally killing every single memory. Every single part of his heart that loved Dean. Loved. That was what those vacant blue eyes that swam in tears reflected. A message that was loud and clear and obviously so traumatic, Cas' lips parted and he stared painfully at Dean.

"Dude," Sam wiped his face and cast an angry look at his brother, then he threw a long glance at his best friend by his side.

"Cas," Dean's voice was unsteady.

"Is this him?" Amanda gasped. "Oh my god! He is gorgeous! Hi," she rushed towards Cas and slowly, he backed away as if her presence alone was like facing death.

"It's not what you think," Dean tried again, swallowing hard when those blue eyes that he loved more than anything in the world offered him nothing but the most disappointed look he had ever witnessed. "Cas, I—"

"How could you, Dean?"

He didn't even realize his brother had spoken until a few hours later. Then though, when he watched Cas retreat from his presence, Dean felt the purest form of heartbreak for the first time. The magnitude of it was so terrible, he didn't stop breathing. He couldn't breathe at all. He couldn't speak. Words ran away from him and his soul felt like it was on fire. Like his entire world was falling apart and there was nothing he could do about it when Cas disappeared after the sound of his wings fluttering.

For a long time, even though Amanda tried to pull him into reality, Dean suffered in his own silence. He became mute to the world and hated that with every beat of his heart, there was pain. So much pain.

He remembered Sam yelling at him inside the car but the words were muffled. The wind continuously slapped his face though. Cold, icy wind. Everything around him didn't make sense anymore. The way the road winded ahead, he couldn't recall where they were headed or why. All he could drown in was Cas. Leaving him. Cas' broken look. All the cracks in Cas' eyes that leaked tears and then, he was gone.

And now, two weeks later, Dean sits at the map table downing a cup of coffee with nothing but silence around him until Sam wanders into the War Room. Casting a pitiful look at his brother, he settles into a chair and opens his laptop. Then, there's the sound of keys tapping and every now and again, Sam glances at his brother and manages to capture a lost look. It's the kind of look that isn't quite pensive but hurtful. But not hurtful in a way that suggests the opening up of a wound. But the gnawing of guilt and a sense of fear.

"Drink up," Sam urged. "Your coffee's getting cold."

Dean, after startling a little, settled into taking a slow sip. "You got another case?"

"Dude, it's been a day since the last one. We've done three in two weeks tops. I think we need to slow down."

"Nonsense!" Dean clapped the table, suddenly appearing spritely and he rose up with a spring in his step. "I'm game for another hunt, man. Keeps me going. I love the adrenaline rush."

"Only way to distract you from the pain," Sam muttered.

"What?" Dean poked his head out of the kitchen.

"Nothing," the younger Winchester sighed, avoiding eye contact. "Was only wondering if you got a chance to grab some supplies this morning."

"I um…" Dean was trying so hard to keep his voice steady after his gaze fell onto Cas' teddy bear mug resting near the sink, "I was kind of caught up in something else."

"You were gone for two hours!" came Sam's voice from the war room.

The way Cas used to hug his cup in between those soft hands. Hands that used to love caressing Dean's face. Fingers that used to entwine with his easily and when they mixed their teas most mornings, Dean remembered how Cas used to remind him of the fluffy khaki colored teddy bear on the mug. That's the reason why he had gifted him with the mug. It was because of the one time he had called Cas 'huggy bear' and why? Because he gave the best, warm, squishy hugs. He was so damn soft, and so lovable.

Now…

Dean bent over the sink, felt his chest cracking and the tears just flowed. Most of them didn't even trail pathways down his cheeks. Instead, his eyes leaked into the sink and mixed with the soapy water. And after five damn weeks without Cas, Dean just sank onto the floor in a heap.

His chest shook from sobs because he missed those hugs. He missed the way Cas smelled like honey and ginger and cinnamon. The soft feel of his lips. How he tasted like peanut butter and peppermint toothpaste. His warm breath…Dean still felt Cas' lips on his neck. And because he remembered those intimate moments, he cried because he remembered the times they made love. Over and over again. Holding onto each other as if they didn't want to ever let go. Falling, unbecoming and exposing every single emotion during those intimate moments.

Dean missed Cas so much, he cried into his knees and didn't even recognize the absent sound of the running tap when his brother turned it off.

Cas always made him feel like home. So without him around, Dean hated the bunker. He hated how his bed felt colder. How his sheets lacked the smell of someone else. Someone that he could love forever and more without ever giving up. He missed how the smell of coffee greeted him in the morning and he would wake up to the lip of the cup brushing the tip of his nose. Dean missed the forehead kisses that lingered for a few seconds and then the familiar 'my love, did you sleep well?'

Now, he had fucked it up completely.

And Cas…

White walls. A bed. A chair…wooden. A table. Wooden also with a cleared surface. The absence of windows and the abundance of memories.

He was slowly dying. At least that's what it felt like whenever Cas tried to breathe; the slow, painful process of trying to count his heartbeats and realizing that every single time he did, he kept remembering how much he loved Dean. How much he had given up to love a flawed man only to have his worst fear come to life. To lose Dean in the arms of a woman who could ease him into a normal life with an ideal home. She could bear his children…something he couldn't ever do. And the more Cas thought about how he could never fulfill those needs that Dean longed for deep down inside, Cas cried.

For the first time in eternity, he lay motionless on a white bed with cold sheets and Cas sobbed until there were no more tears. Until he simply stared at the ceiling and considered the room in Heaven's midst as a tomb. Because he was better off dead, wasn't he? After witnessing the man he loved more than anything else on earth lock lips with someone else, the feeling of having his heart ripped out of his chest and torn into shreds was too much trauma. And still Cas hung on to the incredible love he had for Dean.

He couldn't stop loving him. Not now. Not ever because loving Dean was the only thing in the universe that was sensible. Loving Dean barely kept him alive in his tomb of pain that was thick and sickly and suffocating.

Emerald eyes that reminded him of the lush green grass by Loch Laggan. Or the sweet and sour licorice stick that could be bought by a particular vender off the coast of Paris. The memory of a couple in love spreading a green blanket near a statue of Caesar in a garden within the Vatican City.

Dean's voice was so soothing. The way he laughed like a child. The way his fingers curled around his glass of whisky. His comforting touch. The way he would look into Cas' eyes as if he depended on Cas to save him when he fell down. When he couldn't believe in himself. He looked at Cas like a child trying to gain reassurance from his parent before jumping into a pool.

Now, most of what Cas felt was trauma.

He still couldn't understand why Dean had kissed someone else. Why he had felt the need to move on so fast. Why he had honestly wanted to give up on them. But then Cas remembered leaving him, walking out after promising to return and then Chuck brutally fast forwarding the time. Taking them three weeks ahead and shattering their hearts afterwards. And when Cas really thought about what those three weeks must have felt like to Dean, he couldn't hate him or judge him for running to someone else for comfort or reassurance.

Cas felt like everything was justified.

Like he deserved what had occurred. And over and over again, he kept reliving these small slices of pain and awakening to day after day of the same memories. The same space of time. Twenty-four hours of trying to bring to life Dean's face inside his mind. Of trying to hold onto his kisses that tasted like whisky and beer and chocolate or beef jerky most times. The way Dean would tilt his head and rub their noses together before kissing him. Biting his bottom lip and tugging playfully. Trying to ruffle Cas' hair all the time and annoying the hell out of the angel.

Sometimes, when they touched intimately in the dark, Cas remembered how Dean would become so frightened from doing the wrong things. From his fear of exploring too fast or too slow, Dean would start to tremble. His hands would shake and he would hyperventilate and then when Cas held the hunter's face between his hands and spoke to him softly, Dean would gain all the strength he needed to continue. He would entwine their fingers and hug Cas close to him throughout the night, never letting go. And now.

"Dean…" Cas' sob ripped through his chest and he tried to swallow down the pain but couldn't. "I still…love…" raking his fingers through his hair, he fought to breathe. "I love…him. I love him." His voice broke. Weakly, Cas tried to sit up and the room spun dangerously. "I love him," he kept saying, "I love…you. Dean Winchester. I love…you so much. I love you."

And when night fell down like a blanket upon the world, Dean stared up at the ceiling, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. And his body shook from dry sobs.

"I love you, Cas," he said hoarsely, his voice barely audible. "Please come back to me. Cas, I love you. I never stopped loving you. Dammit. Cas. I want you back. I want you to…" his lips quivered. "Darling, please," Dean pleaded in prayer. "I love you with every breath I take. Every second of every day, darling. Wherever you are. Just know that I'm never going to take you for granted anymore. I'm going to keep on loving you until I can't anymore. And when I can't love you anymore. Cas…"


	25. Honesty

**A/N - You're probably wondering why I posted all these chapters. Well, I'm not so cruel to leave you all dreading the most hurtful ending for these two. At the end of this chapter, there is progress. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

x

"Ten gifts ain't so bad," Sam said on Christmas morning, sitting with his long legs folded near the tree. He threw a glance at his yawning brother devouring coffee by the map table and laughed. "Bet you only got one and the rest are all mine."

"Five each," Dean's voice was hoarse from sleep and crying into his pillow the night before. "I've counted already."

"Cheater."

"Bitch," the older Winchester jerked his chin at the gifts. "Go on and open yours before I claim all as mine."

"Jerk," Sam mumbled, reaching for the first one wrapped in shiny red gift paper. His eyes lit up after reading the tag. "Not bad for a first choice. This one's from Jody and Donna." Giving it a little shake, his eyes sparkled. "Man, I hope it ain't one of those ugly sweaters like last year."

"Yours had a badly embroidered moose on the front," Dean remembered. Resting down his coffee, he swallowed and tried to savor the bitter taste. "Mine had a squirrel munching on nuts and Ca—" quickly his eyes filled with tears.

Sam stopped unwrapping his gift and immediately turned to gaze at his brother with a saddened expression. After all this time, Dean was still holding on to the sound of the door opening. Every time his brother's phone rang, Sam literally watched Dean's green eyes light up from really hoping. From expecting something more. Anything.

"Hey, I love you, okay?" Sam tucked his gift under his right arm, untangled himself, stood up and slowly approached his brother. Wrapping his arms around Dean's form, Sam hugged him tightly. "You're the best big bro. Merry Christmas."

"Thanks, Sammy," the other man croaked, his eyes filling with tears. "Merry Christmas to you too. I love you, man."

"I'll always keep remembering how when we were kids, how you used to make Christmas day a special one for me. Always bringing in a tree of any size, and we would stay up making paper decorations. Then you would give me a gift every single Christmas morning for as long as I can remember."

"Sammy, don't," Dean teared up, reaching up to brush away the tears. "Come on, man. I'm already a mess."

"You're loved. By Jody, Donna, Alex, Claire, all the people whose lives you've saved. Don't ever feel like you're not worth it. Here," Sam handed over the half-unwrapped gift with a huge grin. "This is actually yours."

"You are unbelievable!" snatching the gift from his brother, Dean checked the tag and read his name as clear as day.

"Man, I was so close," Sam collected another gift and after reading 'To: Dean, From: Cas" on it, he swallowed hard. Then choosing to rest that one back under the small tree decorated with red and green shiny balls, he moved onto the other one from Alex to him.

Dean, however, was now holding up a handsome looking green and black plaid shirt, with short sleeves that perfectly matched his eyes that sparkled.

"At least it's better than the sweater from last year," Sam commented with a shrug. He tore open his gift from Alex and marveled over a Harry Potter themed scarf. "Perfect! Gryffindor all the way."

Rolling his eyes at the reference, Dean got up from sitting next to the table and lowered himself by his brother upon the floor. Then reaching for the same gift Sam had picked up earlier, he read the tag whilst his brother held his breath.

Silence at first. Dean gazed at the words for a long time before he decided to rest it gently by his side. And pulling another gift towards him, this time one that was wrapped in green, he discovered it was from Claire and decided to open it. When he pulled out a white teddy bear with blue eyes wearing a trench coat, Dean smiled warmly at Claire's gift. He loved it, absolutely adored it and after discovering that the bear had a small card attached to it, he pried it open:

_**To you, dad. For you to hug when my other dad who wears the trench isn't around to keep you warm. Love, your daughter, Claire.**_

Warmth. That's what he felt after rereading her message over and over again. After wondering how she could really see him as her dad. It was such a beautiful moment for Dean, and Sam, after realizing that his brother had grown silent for too long, he snatched the teddy bear, and perused the note. Then smiling at the message, he handed it back and patted Dean on his back.

"See how special you are? Here," Sam displayed a knife set with five different blades and instructions on how to use each one to kill any kind of monster. "You get a teddy bear whilst she sends me weapons. I feel the love, man."

After Dean's gift to his brother was pulled out from under the tree, he decided to find his own as well from his sibling. Both of them in turn, unwrapped their present and laughed over the choices.

Sam had bought his brother three things; a bottle of lube, a three pack deal on Irish Spring body wash and a pack of boxers with colors ranging from red to pink.

"Lube?" Dean's cheeks colored as he smiled at his brother. "Really, Sammy?"

"That obvious, huh?"

"Ya think?" Dean rolled his eyes. "Come on, open yours before I take it back for a refund."

When Sam pulled out a beautiful Kenneth Cole black banded watch with a silver face, he gasped. It was the same watch he had seen in a store whilst they were shopping in the mall and after staring at it for a long time, Sam had drifted off, leaving his thoughts of not having it behind. Now, to actually realize that Dean had been watching him all the time; he couldn't conceal the love and thanks he felt. Folding his brother into a hug, he ruffled his hair and annoyed the hell out of him before letting go. Then slipping it out of the box and putting it on, Sam felt so special, he beamed at Dean for a full minute.

"I feel the love," Sam said warmly. "I always do."

"Good, because I'm still hating you for this," Dean held up the bottle of lube. "I mean, really? Really, Sam? You could have just stuck to the Irish Spring and boxers, man. Not this."

"Might come in handy when Cas comes back," Sam shrugged, avoiding eye contact as he smiled. "The reunion between you two will be epic."

"I'm feeling eggnog," Dean completely changed the topic. He rummaged through the wrappings for a red bow and slowly began to pull the ribbons apart idly. "How about you?"

"And Christmas with the Kranks," Sam, nevertheless, didn't dwell on the sore topic that caused his brother some amount of discomfort. "And then National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation."

Dean smiled back warmly until the last two gifts left to unwrap belonged to someone who wasn't with them to share the best kind of moments. Now, he had no choice but to face the elephant in the room.

Without saying anything though, Sam tore open the gold colored paper and after pulling out an infuser water bottle, he laughed.

"I've always wanted one of these! Man, Cas," Sam lifted his eyes to the ceiling and smiled widely. "Wish you were here so I could say thank you in person. I really like my gift!"

Dean on the other hand was studying his brother with the kind of saddened look that was reminiscent of someone who wished for the same thing but couldn't quite admit his feelings out loud. And when he remembered the only unwrapped gift nestled close to his right thigh, he reached up, pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to gather composure.

He missed Cas. Oh God, how he yearned for someone who had walked out on him without even sticking around to listen to the truth. It felt like karma. He reacted sordidly to Cas withholding the fact that he still had his angel mojo and then Cas ran away from him after believing that he had really slept with Amanda. Now, every damn time Dean swung around by the bar, he slammed down on the gas and rode out of there in a jiffy. Nothing could ever break his heart further than the look of utter disappointment and hurt in those blue eyes when he pulled away from kissing a woman who had no intentions to sleep with him but just to part as friends.

"You gonna open that?" Sam's voice shoved its way through his brother's haunting memories.

Green eyes swum inside tears. "Um," Dean sucked in air through his teeth and after scrubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands, he nodded. "Yeah, man, Why not."

His hands were nervy. His fingers trembling when he tucked the small red envelope under his thigh and continued to unwrap his gift from Cas. And it wasn't his first gift. Not really. For five Christmases prior, Cas had always given him something valuable. Last year, there was a back scratcher. The year before, Cas had actually found a chakra beads band supposed to keep the wearer calm and after some debate on whether to wear it, Dean had complied. Afterwards, it really helped him so much that he never took the damn thing off. Not even when he showered. And just as much as those gifts were precious, so were the comfy denim jacket, the white Snoopy teddy bear and the portable charging dock to keep his phone juiced on the road.

Now, when Dean pulled out two neatly folded t-shirts: a black with the word TIGER in yellow and a green with the words 'I'm Taken' in white on the front, he couldn't breathe.

At first, his smile had stretched across his face from the beautifully thoughtful gifts. But then when he connected the first t-shirt's choice to Cas' favorite song and he constantly kept hearing Cas singing to him in his gravely voice to 'teach me tiger, how to kiss you', Dean's eyes filled with tears. Then the second one…well that did it for him.

Dean excused himself, tucked the shirts under his arm and he literally rushed out of the war room on the verge of crying. Then safely locked inside his room, he crumbled behind the door, hugged his knees and emptied every single feeling of anger, of hurt and pain onto the knees of his faded blue jeans.

The thought of Cas really thinking that Dean had cheated on him was something that opened up the hunter's chest and ripped his heart out every single time he dwelled on the memories. Every single time he tried to forgive himself for ending up in a situation like that and then when he recalled the trauma felt afterwards, Dean couldn't come out of his room.

For the rest of the day, he cried and died a little more inside. He tried to pray to Cas, he really did. But then his voice had grown so hoarse from crying, there was nothing left. So instead, he crawled onto his bed, and slept until noon. Then later down in the night, he found Sam waiting for him in the leisure room, with eggnog and the two movies as promised ready to roll.

On Old Year's night, Sam actually dragged Dean to a local hangout spot where a bunch of friends had gathered to have a few drinks.

At first, Dean was hesitant to go, because as of late, he really ever wanted to stay concealed in the bunker whilst wallowing in his destruction. But Sam would not accept it.

Half an hour with his buddies Dave, Andrew, Ethan and Matt who had a weird resemblance to Ryan Reynolds, Sam was drunk as a fish. Dean sat closer to the window, savoring some Jameson Whisky and he kept marveling over his brother's intoxicated mood. The way he kept tossing back his locks, grinning like a fool. And his constant blabbering on how to open a tuna can with a rock or a pebble cracked Dean up so much, his mood lightened. Especially when Dave confessed that he always had a crush on Sam back in high school.

"My wife likes to call me Ryan Reynolds in bed," Matt said and a guffaw of laughter followed. He shrugged. "I mean, she's always had a thing for him so if I'm the next best, then so what?"

"Might make you put on a Deadpool costume," Sam raised his eyebrows.

"Been there, done that," Matt said, cracking up everyone further. "You know what's weird though? She cut a circle on the crotch of the costume so the only thing not covered is my balls in bed. During winter, it's a bitch."

The entire table laughed so hard, even Dean started to really enjoy himself.

"Andy wanted to come," Dave told Sam after a while. "I mean, he really did. But he's swamped in work and it gets hard for him during Christmas with retail and all. The store can't run itself when he's the manager."

"I feel you," Sam reached for his beer, took a sip and threw a glance at his brother. "Too bad Cas isn't here either."

"The to be brother-in-law," Dave nodded with a smile. "Ah, right," he smiled down the table at Dean who had suddenly begun to pick at his nails. "Did he stay home to rest up?"

"Cas is out on a…" Sam swallowed, head still swimming, "…trip. See, he's visiting a friend. And it's not like he didn't want to be here. It's just that he didn't make it back in time."

"Sounds like he has his priorities mixed up," Dave frowned. "Should have been here at least to welcome the new year with you." He offered a sympathetic look at the older Winchester. "If it's anything that makes sense these days, it's the little moments that count. Right now, I'm feeling like shit knowing Andy is working late tonight and he can't be here. I bet you feel the same."

Dean shrugged. "Look, I tip my hat to my brother for holding on to hope and what not. But truthfully, Cas and I…we're not…together anymore."

Everyone stared at him except Sam who refused to make eye contact as he tried to drown in his beer. Out of everyone in their lives, even when Jody and Donna and everyone else had been slammed with the hurtful news that Cas had left, Sam was the one who held on to hope. Whatever sliver there was to feed off of, Sam always believed that something had gone awry and there was just a small mix up that could be fixed in no time.

"Man, that sucks," Dave finally said in the softest tone. "Give it time. He was the first guy you were ever with, right?"

Dean inclined his head in approval. He picked up his glass, and lifted it with a smile. "Cheers to a damn good year behind us."

Everyone responded in unison, lifting their beers but Dave couldn't help but consider Dean with a saddened look. And when everyone left to find excitement in a few games of pools, he cornered the older Winchester and squeezed his arm.

"Look, it takes a while to bounce back from something so special," Dave said softly whilst Dean swallowed hard. "Chances are, wherever he is, he's thinking about you as much as you're thinking about him. I always give the first two months after a breakup as the waiting period. You keep waiting at least for something to happen. Something in the form of a call or an apology or you know, maybe a makeup but after two months, it's time to really let go. If they come back afterwards then fine. At least you held on."

"Thanks, man," Dean cleared his throat, and reached for the bottle of whisky. He poured a heavy shot and sighed. "I just wish that things didn't end the way it did."

"Well then, unfinished business always has a way of rising to the surface again. Hell, an ex I had about ten years ago came back to me the other day and apologized for leaving without a reason," Dave shrugged when their eyes met. "Took him ten goddamn years to do it. But he came around. My point is, if the guy has a conscience, he's going to come around and at least talk to you. If he doesn't come back, then you move on. It's hard but you keep going until you find someone else and then you keep going again."

The truth though, was that Dean didn't want to find someone else.

He simply couldn't. He couldn't even gaze into someone else's eyes and find the kind of peace and love and comfort he had felt in Cas' arms. The treasure of having so much warmth embodied in a person. No one else smelled like Cas did. No one hugged him without wanting to let go. Or gazed into his eyes and wrapped their souls into a hug. No one. And because he couldn't find that kind of connection that had been growing strong for a little over ten years, Dean was doomed for the moment.

Cas, on the other hand, had taken a guilty pleasure in casting his watchful eyes on Dean. Sitting in his white room with white sheets and no door, Cas' blue eyes would become vacant as he tapped into the profound bond between the two of them.

Oftentimes, he was completely blocked out from Dean's thoughts, simply because the hunter was in so much pain or felt so terribly empty, his mind could not piece itself together to be considered as fully stable. And in times like those when Cas could not reach Dean, could not thread lightly through the other man's thoughts, he feared the worst.

He automatically thought that perhaps Dean had been wounded. Or he had discovered that Cas was prying and ultimately made the decision to block him out completely.

Maybe Dean had inevitably realized that Cas wasn't enough and never would be enough and his decision to kiss someone else stemmed from a sense of feeling incomplete. Over and over again, Cas would keep trying to hold onto the color of Dean's eyes. The way Dean smiled at him. But gradually, those memories began to fade after a month and now, all he was left with was the occasional sound of Dean's voice inside his head.

"…Cas couldn't do it and he walked away so I just got to keep going and going and most days I don't even feel like I can because…."

When Dean's voice faded inside his head, Cas sat up straighter and for the first time in a long time, the wildest thought floated into his mind.

If he couldn't settle without knowing more, without seeing the man he still loved then maybe he could push a little further. Maybe he could find another avenue to seek out the presence of Dean, to gaze into his eyes and to talk to him. To engage him in conversation because Cas couldn't muster up the courage to face Dean completely. At that point, he had already figured out that what they had, was shattered and lying like pieces on the floor. What they had, had slipped away and their relationship had become so broken after so long, there was no way Dean even thought about him as a lover anymore.

Now though, Cas suddenly jumped into the most insane wave of thought that at first, he didn't even realize how bizarre the whole idea was. He couldn't think straight; literally. He really couldn't find himself, and after all that time, wallowing in self-pity and spending time in solace, Cas wanted to do something reckless. He wanted to feel again. To feel something other than emptiness and confusion and pain. And he wanted to find the reason, any kind of information on why Dean had let go of everything they had to jump into another person's bed.

It had been weeks, he was aware of that simple hurtful fact. Weeks where he could have slipped down onto earth and tried to decipher the whys but when one is simply drowning in the feel of their first heartbreak, nothing else matters. Nothing feels real anymore. Everything hurts. Physically, he had been in so much pain, Cas couldn't even sit up for days. And now that his celestial energy was still strong but aching to find peace in what had occurred to torment him, Cas did the one thing that even surprised himself.

With tears in his eyes, he sought out a female vessel on earth that was willing to accommodate him, and when he found one that was most suited, Cas didn't stop there. He further perused the earth for the one person who couldn't slip out of his mind. The one person who he loved endlessly although his heart had been ripped into two. His mind ran through places and was alarmingly surprised when he discovered that Dean's soul was sitting cramped up in a corner inside a bar.

When Cas suddenly appeared behind a group of people that were loudly arguing about a game of basketball, no one noticed. That is, until he realized that the vessel he was wearing was completely beautiful enough to stop the entire argument in its tracks and instantly, the men were pining over him. Did he want a drink? Would he sit with them? He had the loveliest shade of red hair. The kindest blue eyes. The sexiest slender body on a woman.

But none of their remarks, boisterous or deserving managed to penetrate his mind. Not even the fact that when he did manage to consider himself, Cas agreed that the vessel was delightfully gifted in all areas and exactly the kind of woman Dean would chase after. But even though he was so sure of himself, so certain of his actions and the way forward, Cas wasn't prepared to face the hunter after such a long time.

He stood there decked out in a red knee length dress with short sleeves and clutching a gold sequined purse in his hand, Cas swallowed hard.

Dean wasn't sitting by the table alone; he was accompanied by a bottle of Jameson whisky, a glass that was half empty and a plate of potato fries that were untouched.

The shirt he had slipped into was a purple and black plaid, long sleeved and instantly, Cas frowned. Dean never wore long sleeves. Perhaps he was cold. And because Cas thought of Dean possibly suffering from a cold or some kind of fever, he reflexively took two steps closer to the table, still a million miles of distance between them. And yet, Cas was drowning.

He was drowning because he couldn't even peel his eyes away from the most handsome man on earth to even consider Sam enjoying a game of pools with his friends. He was quite aware that his best friend was alive and well, and certain of this because they had been keeping contact on and off since. But nothing else mattered except Dean Winchester.

From the way he sat in one attitude for over ten minutes. Elbow propped on the table, face pensive and brooding. Those emerald eyes were fixated on the lip of his glass. His thumb was slowly caressing the lip as if he couldn't dissolve the thoughts rushing through his mind.

Thoughts of what? Of him?

As much as Cas tried to swim into Dean's mind, he was blocked. And because he was shut out, Cas felt that in that moment, maybe Dean had learned to lock him out. Maybe Dean had realized that Cas had been prying and he had mastered the art of boxing his thoughts up. He could have accomplished it easily; Dean. By simply willing it. By placing all the anger he probably felt into sealing his mind off.

This made Cas feel so wounded and angry, that he purposely gathered enough courage and sauntered over to the table on five-inch heels.

At first, when his space was invaded, Dean couldn't process the intrusion. Instead, he merely tried to blink back the tears from coming forth, and quickly, the hunter cleared his mind. When he discovered that a very attractive woman had decided to seek him out with a scowl on her face, Dean was impressed but somewhat irritated. Firstly, he wasn't in the mood to accommodate any kind of female company. Secondly, he had been guiltily reminiscing on the first time he had ever kissed Cas; by the edge of a cliff in Sioux Falls, with Cas wedged between his aching body and Baby. Now the presence of someone else kind of vaporized that beautiful memory.

"You're stunning and all, but I'm really not interested," he said in the kindest tone ever. "Um," glancing around, he shrugged. "If you like, my brother's friend Ethan is looking for a nice girl. Maybe I could introduce you two. He's an engineer." Dean winked.

Cas, on the other hand, raised his eyebrows and felt the softest flutter inside his chest. Dean had turned the opportunity down in the most gentlemanlike way ever. And this alone wrapped Cas inside a warm blanket, knowing that he had fallen in love with a very kind man who would go out of his way to match a pretty woman up with a friend of his.

"I'm really not interested in anyone else but you," Cas tried teasingly, drowning in those emerald eyes though. "You're far more handsome than anyone else in the room." He was being truthful and after realizing the worth behind his words, Cas felt even more wounded.

"Well," Dean smiled and shrugged. He picked up his glass and sipped. "What can I say? Thanks. I'm an interesting guy but believe me, you're just wasting your time here."

"I'm a very attractive woman," Cas pushed on, wondering why the hell he was trying to prove a point when this was the most hurtful situation he had ever been in. "You're telling me that you wouldn't like to take me somewhere so that we could know each other a little more?"

Smoothly though, Dean licked his lips and nodded. His expression stiffened. "Look, I really don't know you that well so I can't say anything about the person you are. But what I'm going to admit is that you're gorgeous. And you wouldn't have a hard time getting any single guy around here. Me though…" Dean's voice softened as he avoided eye contact, "I'm…kind of still into someone at the moment."

Cas' heart melted. He swallowed. Dean was really turning the opportunity down.

"You're in love?" Cas tried, this time, trying to make his voice sound firmer when he was breaking down inside.

Dean nodded. "Um, call me crazy but I'm one of those guys who has found that one person that no one else can compare to. And because of that, I really can't think of anyone else the way I think about…this person. So maybe you could be a very nice woman. Who knows? But right now, all I can offer you is small talk and possibly a beer or…whisky, if you like." Dean gestured at the bottle.

Cas, inclined to conceal his identity as if the blaring truth was written on his head, nodded. When Dean clicked his fingers at the waitress to fetch another glass, those blue eyes latched onto green ones and wouldn't divert. At first, the two of them merely stared at each other until a gaze was enacted. And then, after moving close to a minute with the intention of prying and trying to discover what was the red head's full intentions, Dean suddenly felt something so close to lightening streaking across his heart, his chest heaved. And he blinked too fast.

"You…what did you say your name was?" he asked honestly.

Cas, choked on the answer. "I didn't say. I'm Cassandra." And when the name slipped out of his mouth, he hated himself for being so damn naïve. Because instantly, Dean's eyes widened.

"That's a…nice name," the hunter's voice had fallen low as he was carefully scrutinizing Cas' vessel. "Where are you from, Cassandra?"

"Um," Cas dramatically made an attempt to tuck a few red strands of hair behind an ear as if teasing. "I'm from New York. Just visiting family. My brother and his wife live not too far from here. I always come during the holidays to spend time with them. It's kind of a tradition."

Slightly convinced that perhaps nothing was awry, Dean nodded and offered a sympathetic look. "Family comes first. Doesn't always mean that you got to be blood related but me and my brother, we're inseparable."

"Oh," shyly, Cas tried to avoid the urge to drown in the hunter's eyes and the sound of his voice. "So you're in love with this person then?"

Dean at first offered a distant look and then he blinked. "Head over heels. Smitten, if you'd like to call it that. Dammit, I probably sound so corny right now."

"Not really. It's believable."

"It's like, I've never done this before," Dean was suddenly smiling.

"Done what?" Cas asked, frowning now.

"Open up so easily to a complete stranger. About…being in love," Dean remarked in a light tone, "I'm not careful anymore because I've never felt like this like ever, in my life. And the more I keep feeling like this, the more I realize that when I will have to face reality, then I might be cut down too short to recover and—"

"Oh my god! Dean? Hi!" came quite a familiar voice into their space, that for a few seconds, neither of them seemed to process the intrusion until Dean's eyes lit up.

"Amanda?" he awkwardly stood up and hugged the flouncy woman, now a brunette, awkwardly. "Damn, what are you doing here?" She was decked out in a short red dress, enough cleavage to cushion anyone's aching heart and the brightest shade of lipstick to match her clutch purse.

"Am I interrupting something?" she asked, smiling down at the red headed woman who suddenly appeared so upset, Cas' blue eyes were on fire.

"No, not at all, this…" Dean sat down, poured a shot of whisky and handed it over to Cas, "is Cassandra. We just met. Actually, we were just talking. Nothing else."

"I'm not trying to be nosy, silly," Amanda nudged Dean's arm as she beamed at the woman seated across the table. For some odd reason, she got the feeling that the red head didn't like her at all. "I was just wondering if you really moved on after you know who. And so fast? Come on, Dean."

"Um, to be honest, I haven't," Dean pointed out whilst shooting Cas a sympathetic look as if apologizing for Amanda's intrusion. "I was just telling her… " he gestured at the red head, "that I'm still smitten when you showed up."

"Yay me!" Amanda hugged herself and peered over at the other woman. "He swings for the other team though," she purposely said with a wink.

"Come on, man," Dean scowled, "not cool, outing me like that. Besides, I don't consider it like that at all. It's different."

"So, there's this guy that he's totally in love with, right?" Amanda was bursting with energy as usual as she made herself at home beside Dean. "And I swear, there's no one else that could ever get him to even be remotely interested. Can I tell her the story?" she threw a glance at Dean who shrugged.

"Sure, why not jump into it since you're halfway there already?" Dean settled back into the chair and shook his head.

There was something strange about the red head though. Something Dean couldn't quite put his finger on. Maybe it was her eyes. The exact shade of blue that belonged to Cas or maybe it was the manner in which she sat; rigid. But then, maybe he was growing paranoid, seeing Castiel in someone else when it was the most ridiculous thought of all.

"Dean and I met inside a bar and he was drunk as a fish when I tried to lure him," Amanda was saying, all enthusiastic about the story. And Cas was holding his breath, wondering how in the world fate could be so astonishing to bring the one person who had contributed to his demise in the picture. "When I did get him upstairs, and I was taking off his clothes, he asked me to stop. So of course, I was like why? Then I kept doing it anyway because hello! Hot guy, in my bed. I'm going to so screw him, right?"

Cas, on the other hand, had fisted his small hands under the table. He really didn't want to sit there and listen to the story. To the details of how Dean slept with someone else. But Amanda kept going on and on as if there was no off switch to her disgusting lamentations.

"He couldn't get it up," she was saying, her eyes wide as saucers. "Imagine, you have him in your bed and then he just can't do it –"

"Man," Dean groaned, rubbed his eyes and sighed. "You're embarrassing me. Skip to the part where I am not naked."

"He couldn't get it up and we didn't sleep together because he kept talking about this person. This guy. Cas. Over and over again, he kept telling me that he loves Cas. And Cas is his life. And Cas this and Cas that," Amanda sighed. "Then he fell asleep crying over someone who I thought was a woman. Next morning, when he told me that Cas was actually a dude, I really felt bad because I'm honestly telling you, this guy," she gestured at Dean by her side, "is so in love with Cas, he couldn't even give it up for one night out of guilty pleasure. And you know how most guys are. They jump into it. I mean look at me, I'm hot as fuck but Dean never even touched me."

"That is admirable," Cas managed to say stiffly.

Sighing, Dean threw a glance at the other woman across the table: Cassandra. And he shook his head. "Sorry about this," he admitted in a soft tone. "Bet you didn't come over here to hear my life story."

However, Cas was slowly being eaten by a feeling of complete shame that he couldn't even provide an answer. Dean, had admitted to this woman that he was in love with a man; him. At that point in time, after they had argued and Cas hadn't showed up for a while, Dean really still never let go of what he felt. He held on to that feeling, even with a naked woman in front of him. And what else kind of proof did Cas really need after confirming the truth for himself when he had waltzed over and Dean had turned him down?

Now, as Amanda explained that the kiss was nothing more than two friends parting on good terms, Cas' eyes filled with tears.

"Did you ever find him?" Amanda asked Dean, frowning. "Cas. Did he ever come back? Did he ever like, call or text or show up?"

When Dean's chest heaved and he shook his head, Cas' heart cracked even more. "Guess he gave up after he saw us kissing. I tried to call him many times since. Never picked up. I tried praying. That never works. Now, I'm just here completely loving someone who left me without giving me a chance to explain."

"Love sucks," Amanda cradled her face on her palm and sighed.

"Tell me about it, people keep asking me to get over him. But how can you get over someone that taught you the real meaning of love? Someone that showed you everything that felt like love? Someone who…I don't know…proved to me that I can be loved no matter how fucked up I am?"

"And that's really why you keep drinking whisky and hoping," Amanda said. "I just don't understand how he could be so selfish to not even give you a chance to explain. Like who does that? He must have been hurt even before he ran away. Or he probably lied to you about how he felt. Like, he really never loved you because if he did, he wouldn't have left and never come back."

Dean sighed. He sipped his whisky. "Seems so more and more each day. Said I meant the world to him but how can you say that to me and then leave."

"You still got the ring?" Amanda asked all of a sudden. "Don't give me that look! I found the ring in his jacket when I was busy trying to tear off his clothes," she beamed at Cas. "Can you imagine that?"

Dean froze up for a few seconds. Then letting out a long sigh, he gave in, reached into the pocket of his jacket and fished out a small box shaped like a heart.

Cas was dumbfounded. His entire body simply cramped up so much that he stopped breathing.

"So you still walk with it everywhere you go? You're such a softie," Amanda said smiling. "If he shows up now, do you honestly think that you could propose to him? After what happened?"

Dean licked his lips, thought about it as he fingered the small red box. "I guess we would talk things through first. That much I owe him since I'm not completely innocent. I mean, I've screwed up plenty. So, we would have to vent until maybe he decides to take me back."

"Take you back? Dude, he left you!" Amanda was surprised. "What makes you feel like you should give him that much power over you?"

"Because he has that much power over me," Dean admitted in a broken voice, he cleared his throat. "He always has. Cas could yell, fight me, hate me, and I would still love him. Even after all this time, whatever happened between us, man, I just can't let him go. I'm mad at him for walking out yeah, but if I could get him back, I wouldn't ever let him go. Like ever. So this ring here…" Dean gazed at the velvet box and smiled. "I take it everywhere because it gives me hope. Knowing that if he does show up again, I will be reminded that he's the one I want to spend the rest of my life with and no one else."

"And if he doesn't come back?" Cas found his voice to ask, although he was dying inside. "The man you love. If he doesn't come back to you?"

Dean, for a long time held their gaze. "If he doesn't come back, then I'll keep on hoping."

"So you mean to tell me," Amanda tossed her hair back and couldn't quite believe it, "that you're going to spend the rest of your life pining after one guy, staying single for one guy whilst there are plenty others out there?"

"Seems fair, don't it?" Dean simply replied. He pushed the small red box into the pocket of his jacket. "Hell, he waited ten years to have me. I should at least wait ten years more to call it quits."

"Damn," Amanda was so impressed, she snatched the bottle of Jameson Whisky and drank heavily from it.

Suddenly, springing up from the table, Cas almost miss-averaged his five-inch heels and after gathering his balance, he disappeared into the crowd. Only after escaping did he safely lett go of a waterfall of tears when he was locked out in the alleyway behind the bar. And then, and only then did he realize how he had screwed up terribly by running away and giving up so quickly.

Now, he returned to Heaven with such a heavy heart, Cas curled up on the floor and he wept. He cried because of how he had terribly misunderstood Dean when he was supposed to give him the benefit of the doubt. He cried because he couldn't have been more selfish after promising that he wouldn't leave and then doing exactly that. He collapsed because he couldn't only keep blaming himself even though he wasn't to be blamed fully. Even though Dean had done stupid things and had yelled at him, had judged him because of one small secret.

And sitting at the table whilst Amanda babbled on and on, Dean could have honestly sworn that he had just been gazing into a familiar pair of blue eyes. Because he could never ever forget that distinct shade. The way those blue eyes grew stormy or could be lit by a thousand fires. The expression on Cassandra's face when he lamented on his love for Cas. She looked…hopeful and the wounded. But why would a complete stranger appear so wounded? Why would Cassandra seem so intrigued by the story and then afterwards, rush away?

Maybe it was a figment of his imagination but Dean really believed that Cas had been sitting opposite him for a little over half and hour. And because he felt like that was the truth, Dean, for the first time in his life, felt a sliver of anger towards Cas because if Cas really had chosen to use another vessel to come sit with him face to face, then that was unjust and painful. To know that Cas couldn't even come down from his pedestal to talk, and he had to use a disguise to do so. Cas had never been a coward. Never. Now if he had chosen to come under false pretenses to Dean, whilst Dean was still pining over him, it was hurtful.

Very hurtful.


	26. Resurrection

A/N - It's been a month! I'm so sorry that I kept you waiting this long but another life changing event occurred. Just when I thought I had found the 'Cas' to my 'Dean', it appears that she never really wanted me in her future in the first place. So I died inside. However, I'm finally healing and the best part is, I know that Cas always recognized that his future encompassed everything about Dean. So what happened to me was just a tragedy.

* * *

xxx

Three weeks after

"I mean, come on," Sam was beaming at the twisted pinata shaped like a colorful unicorn that Alex was stringing up on the ceiling in the bunker. "You've got to tell me what's inside. It's only fair!'

Alex sighed, then she grinned. "Not telling." Making a show of pouting deliberately, just to tease Sam who had become like a big brother to her, she further stuck out her tongue.

"For fuck's sake, it's beef jerky, Skittles, gummy bears and M&Ms," Claire said, rolling her eyes from the couch.

"Language!" Jody scolded from the table, helping Donna to fix every single plate of food in a precise manner. There was a spread of beef in gravy, steak, BBQ chicken, sausages and rice, ravioli and cheese and beer, lots of beer.

"Where the heck is the birthday boy, anyway?" Donna peered around, a wicked grin on her face. "Seems like he's hiding from his own party."

"Dean!" Sam bellowed as loud as he could, immediately forcing Claire to scowl deeper as she clamped her palms onto her ears. "Get your old self out here!"

"He's like what? Fifty now?" Alex joked, jumping down from the arm of the sofa and standing back to admire her work on positioning the pinata perfectly in midair.

"Forty-one," Sam corrected with a smile. "Seems like just the other day I was teasing him about turning twenty. Then thirty. Forty we missed because we were pretty much swamped in our own kind of hell. But this year, I had to plan something."

"I don't think Dean has ever had a decent birthday party, has he?" Donna frowned from by the table. She neatly stacked cutlery onto a porcelain plate.

Sam shook his head. "Nah, I mean, the last time I could remember him actually having something as close to a party was when we were kids. Dad used to wake him up with a cake and a candle on top, then we would cut it, stuff our faces and take the day off from hunting. Wasn't much to go by."

Claire suddenly giggled from her relaxed attitude on the sofa. Tongue tucked sideways, she tapped away on her mobile and Donna rolled her eyes.

"Me oh my, some girl has gotten our baby smitten again."

"Hope it isn't that rebel down the street from us who has a thousand piercings and tattoos to match every rock band there is," Donna lamented. "Here," she handed Donna a bowl of chips, "start chewing."

"Babe, I'm watching my gut," the other woman protested but delicately. "Can't pack on pounds that I can't shrug off like a coat, can I? Where's the birthday boy? I'm not going to ask again. I'll go barging in his room!"

"I'm here! Dammit," Dean hopped out from the doorway leading into the depths of the bunker. Decked out in a crisp green short sleeved shirt, the exact color of his eyes, he had also tugged on a pair of jet-black jeans.

Everyone stared at his remarkable complexion and lifted spirits. Alex commented on the fact that he was cleanly shaved and looked delicious even though he was an old man at forty-one. Claire on the other hand, seemed absolutely warmed by his appearance and after springing up from the chair, she rushed over, wrapped her arms around him and engulfed Dean in a tight hug.

"Man, you're going to make my heart melt, kid," he said, turning mellow.

"You look great, dad."

That was all it took to bring tears to Dean's eyes and after desperately trying to compose himself as everyone gazed lovingly at the pair, he shied away and suddenly found the pinata interesting enough as a distraction. Dean purposely reached up high, captured the unicorn's crepe paper body between his fingers and he lightly gave it a shake. It was heavy. And his eyes lit up just imagining like a child what was contained inside the belly of the most majestic animal he had every believed in.

"You're so gay," Claire commented as she tumbled onto the couch again and pulled out her mobile. Smirking, she winked at him as if passing across a secretive message. "Always knew it."

"Knew what?" Alex piped in, coming to perch on the arm of the couch.

"That Dean was always gay," Claire rolled her eyes. "Don't you have something better to do than glue yourself to my side? Go bond with Sam. Besides, you wouldn't understand. You're straight as an arrow."

"I…know…things," Alex inclined her head and smiled at the older Winchester and then her sister stretched out like a cat. "Like for instance, I know how the sex works. And it's not too hard to figure out where goes where –"

"Oh…my…god," Claire stared in disbelief. She turned up her nose and shooed Alex away as Dean chuckled, arms folded. "Straight people are so lame. Aren't they, Dean? They don't have glitter in their blood like we do."

"January 24th was the day I first went out with a guy in high school," Jody suddenly said proudly as she threw herself onto the couch next to where Claire sat. "I remember it so clearly because he made me pay for every damn thing, even what he ordered. And he ordered plenty. That bastard."

"Hell, he must have been one firm believer in women being the most powerful species." Donna plucked another chip from the bowl and glanced around. "Hey, where's the music? We need music!"

"Got you covered," Sam quickly dusted his hands off on the front of his pants and jogged over to a nice little set up with two slim black speakers and a phone dock. "Since it's the rock head's birthday, I'll play anything but rock music tonight."

"Give us some nice oldies!" Jody suggested, chewing on a sausage. "Throw it back to the seventies."

"That's more like it!" Sam scrolled through his playlist and after a few seconds, the soft tunes of Paul Anka drifted from the speakers.

Dean, on the other hand, was in such a relaxed mood, he simply bypassed the genre of music and settled down next to Alex by the Map Table. She was now occupied in trying to complete a 1000 pieces puzzle of the Eiffel Tower that Sam had been working on for a week. And he hadn't even gone halfway by then.

"I mean, he looks good," Jody was whispering to Donna as they two of them shared snacks from a distance. "Last time I saw him about three weeks ago during a hunt, he was pale and skinny. Barely any meat on those bones."

"Heartbreak can really damage ya," Donna shook her head, feet curled under her butt.

"He loved Cas so much," Jody sighed. "I still think he does and the worst part of it is that every single time anyone mentions Cas' name, he turns the taps on. I think it's selfish though, that he just picked up and left, you know? Not a phone call. Nothing."

"I don't think it's selfish," Donna frowned and the two of them connected their eyes. "I think Cas had his reasons why he left. He was obviously hurt. Bet your fanny that Cas cried a river and an ocean too. I just hope that wherever he is, he's safe."

"Makes you wonder if he's gone up back to Heaven permanently or he's wandering around somewhere," Jody frowned, studying Dean hovering over Alex, laughing as he tried to fix a piece of the puzzle. "I just don't get it. How could two people who love each other so damn much, drift apart in a matter of weeks? I'm telling you, this is what happens when you don't talk to each other in a relationship."

"Well we learned the hard way, didn't we?" Donna nudged the other woman's shoulder playfully. "Took more than a year for you to get the frog out of your throat. And still it took a while for us to open up to each other. Being in a relationship isn't easy. Heck, love isn't easy when it's with the right person."

"It never is and the most hurtful part is, everyone except Dean and Cas knew that they were in love with each other. Then when they did realize it, they couldn't accept it. Well Dean couldn't. Cas would give up his life for that one." Jody's loving eyes rested on the man she considered as her son.

"Where's the beer?" Claire suddenly asked.

"You sit your damn self down before I tan your hide," Donna scolded immediately. "It's too early. We haven't even cut the cake as yet."

Within half an hour though, Sam suddenly came through the doorway balancing a cake in the shape of a guitar as he sang 'Happy Birthday'.

When the others chimed in, Dean's face was probably the best definition of being loved and happy. Then when his brother rested the cake on the Map Table and everyone gathered around, there were tears in his eyes. And as much as he tried to hold them back, just seeing the people he considered as his family around him, the hunter couldn't believe how lucky he was.

Claire was the one who initiated the cutting of the cake. She took up a knife and fork and each of them took their turn in taking photos with Dean sharing triangular pieces of the chocolate cake with everyone. Photographs couldn't capture the true feelings behind his eyes though. Dean, deep down inside was aching for something so much more and yet, he had everything he possibly could around him. He had his brother and the people he loved and still, like the puzzle on the table, pieces of his life were still missing.

All his life, he had been craving something close to resembling a family. Of having the people around him that mattered. The people who were most important. But never in as long as he had been alive did he ever believe that whilst being surrounded by these special people, a chunk of his heart was missing. It was there had been an explosion deep within his chest and all the butterflies had died. All the softness had turned into prickly fingers poking and rubbing his heart raw. The blood rushing through his veins felt like mud sliding through a drain. And although he could barely keep his head above water, Dean wanted something that had fled from him like a thief in the night.

"I have to make a toast," Donna cleared her throat and smiled around as Claire filled the glasses with champagne. "Honestly, Dean, you are a gift. You are rare. You are so tough on the outside and a mush on the inside…" everyone chuckled, including Claire. "We are so glad to have you in our lives. You have no idea how special you are. Here's to many more birthdays to come where you are happy and healthy and I wish that you get your heart's desire…" she paused, holding his gaze. "Happy birthday!"

Everyone cheered. Sam patted his brother on the back after delivering a heartwarming speech as well. Claire had a go at a few words, fumbling at first and then ending off by burying her face into Dean's chest. Alex and Donna praised how awesome he was with a heart as big as the ocean. And then just as they had all settled down and were happily chewing on cake, the sound of the door leading into the bunker opened and clanged shut.

At first, the laughter died down. The whispering stopped. Six pairs of eyes lifted towards the staircase, possibly fearing an intruder and then expecting maybe another friend to show up.

Claire gasped when she first realized who it was.

It was Cas.

For the first time in a long time though, the kind of silence that rested in the bunker was an awkward one filled with so much discomfort. Then perhaps in Sam's mind, he was terribly relieved. Sharing his sentiments was Jody, followed by Donna seconds after because when they considered the angel's demeanor, how soft around the edges he was, and his face offering nothing but complete nervousness, they were certain of one thing.

Cas had come home.

But Dean…he almost dropped the plate that contained a half-eaten slice of cake. There was a speck of white icing at the corner of his parted lips. And he couldn't breathe. He really couldn't even stop himself from losing all control. From staring and then dying inside. From feeling like he was melting and then having his vision swim from surprise. Shock. Fear.

Cas came down the steps slowly, taking tentative steps and his eyes were only locked on Dean's emerald ones. Only Dean. Eyes that were shiny from tears. Both pairs refusing to divert to anything else, to consider anyone else in the room. And in that moment, if Cas could sum up what he was feeling in one word, he would have labelled it as TERROR.

Terror of not knowing what the outcome would be. Of not knowing what would be said or what the hell he was doing. Why had he come back after all this time? Why had he selfishly decided to stay away although being assured weeks ago that Dean still had a mountain of feelings for him? And now, decked out in a black long sleeved shirt, with black tailored pants and lacking his trench coat, he looked so damn handsome to everyone in the room, even Sam was stunned.

Slowly he approached the one man who had proved to him that love could be all kinds of things. Could be painful, create doubts, make him drown in paranoia. Could destroy him into a coma-like state. Could squeeze a river of tears from his eyes. Could snatch his breath away and force him to choke on sobs. Could cause him to melt, to feel things physically and mentally. To ache deep down inside his soul to touch, to feel, to taste. Because when he touched, and felt and tasted Dean, he felt alive. He felt as if he was an addict, and without his beautiful poison standing in front of him, nothing could function inside of him.

"Happy birthday, Dean," Cas said in a voice so gravelly and broken, he tried to blink the tears away.

They were four feet apart.

Dean was so certain of that, as he was constantly certain of how long it had been since they last cast their eyes on each other. And god how it hurt.

It was like every step that Cas took towards him, jolted his heart to life. Every freaking step, every second, sent electrical bolts through his body and forced him to relive every single stab of pain, of terror, of anger, then adoration and love. Most of all, complete and utter love for a man who had left him drowning all by himself. A man who had collected his heart, wrapped it up in a warm blanket and then dropped it on the floor. And why? Because he just couldn't stick around a few seconds more to learn the truth.

"Why the hell are you here?" Dean managed to ask, his eyes flashing as if little swirls of electricity were behind them. "Huh?" he swallowed hard as his vision swam from tears. Hot, scalding tears and yet his hands were so cold, his fingers like icicles.

"Dean, I…" and Cas stopped because he couldn't say anything else. The things he wanted to say were too private. None of his heart songs required an audience. And because he lacked words in such a crucial moment, he saw the anger flash behind emerald eyes and his face contorted.

"You know what?" Dean said as he gave in to crying in front of everyone, as tears leaked down his cheeks, "don't even try. Forget it." And turning around, he stormed off, racing into the kitchen and then when he stepped further into the empty space, he couldn't fight it anymore.

Dean stared wildly around him, trying to gasp for air and he felt so lost all of a sudden. So confused that he couldn't decide whether he was having the best dream of his life or living his worst nightmare. Because he had dreamed about that moment happening over and over again since they last saw each other. Since Cas disappeared and never contacted him. It had been a little over a month and he had been pacing himself. Day by day, Dean buried his hope away and couldn't do it.

Now, when he heard the light footfalls behind his back and he could smell that distinct scent of honey and cinnamon, Dean's chest shook from sobs. He covered his face and cried into his fingers, hating himself for becoming so weak that even in the presence of Cas in that moment, he couldn't stand up and face him. He couldn't turn around and belt out words at him to express how upset he was. And Cas…

Cas had crumbled enough, so much that the certainty he used to hold behind his eyes had collapsed from days of breaking and hating himself. Now, he stared at Dean's back, at the softness of his hair behind his neck. He drank in the hunter's smell of Irish Spring and whisky. His chest heaved when his fingers ached to touch. His lips trembled when he longed to taste Dean's lips and still he couldn't because they were standing on thin ice at that point. And he was certain that if he even took one step closer, everything would fall between them.

"I'm sorry," Cas tried in a soft tone that wasn't his. "I know that you hate me right now but you must at least give me the chance to explain why I stayed away."

This time, although he wanted to shout, to scream and to fire back words, Dean remained silent because he was completely drained. He had reached a point where he couldn't throw blows. Where he couldn't deliver hate or pain anymore because he was the embodiment of those two words. He hated himself and he was in pain because he had traversed a dark place in his mind days on end longing for the one man who had decided to stay away from him.

"Dean, when I left you that dreadful day after we argued and I went out to cool off, I ran into Chuck. He and I talked about his distaste in me being with you and then he took me up to Heaven against my will. Whilst I was there," Cas was fearing that he couldn't ever be able to explain himself to the end, "Chuck pushed ahead time. By the time I came back down to earth, three weeks had passed by and I was left with an…empty whisky bottle on a table and you nowhere in sight. I was confused, Dean. I didn't know what had happened and even when Sam explained it all to me, I still couldn't believe that time had passed by and you had suffered. By yourself. Believing that I left you. When Sam and I did track you down, that was when I caught you doing the one thing that broke my heart completely."

Sinking onto a chair by the table with his back still to Cas, Dean squeezed his eyes shut and tried to breath. But he couldn't really.

"Remember when I told you that my worst fear was that you would leave me to be with a woman? Well, I stood there and I watched you kiss her and because it was my worst nightmare, I couldn't stay long enough to listen to you explain yourself. I left because I honestly believed that you had given up on us and you had every right to at that point. Maybe that's why I was so convinced that you had moved on."

Dean said nothing. Instead, he kept staring at the wall in front of him, fisting his hands on the table.

"And then I…did the one thing you would never forgive me for. I came down to earth concealed inside a female vessel and I…" when Dean lifted his eyes to the ceiling, blinking through his tears, Cas' agonized look only suggested that he hated himself so much in that moment. "Dean, I did it because I thought that you had given up and that you weren't in love with me anymore. But then after I listened to Amanda speak about what happened that led up to the…kiss…I…"

Silence. And within that silence, Cas could only hear his heart thumping away like a drum during a ritual and his hands…his fingers were so cold. His knees were so weak. There was a dull throbbing behind his temples.

"I felt so ashamed of believing that you had…been unfaithful –"

"Rip my heart out, Cas," Dean suddenly rose up from the table and turned to face the other man with a wet face and dark eyes. "Rip it out and you'll see what the hell you've done to me. You've killed me, Cas. Every single day," Dean said, tasting his salty tears, "you've killed me with your absence like poison in my damn blood. Do you even know what it feels like to love someone so much that even though they decided to leave you, you can't stop thinking about them?"

"I know what it feels like," Cas whispered. "I've been killing myself in Heaven since we last saw each other, because I didn't think for a second that I deserve you. Not after what happened. We're not supposed to be like this."

When Dean said nothing in return, but merely stared at him, Cas' chest shook. He started crying, biting his lips and feeling the purest form of pain settle through his body.

"The worst part of it, Dean, is that even after I learned the truth about what happened between you and Amanda, I still stayed away because…" Cas shook his head. "Because I wanted you to move on. I wanted you to get over me so I gave you time to find someone who would be more deserving. Someone who could give you everything that I couldn't because I was certain that the moment I came back, you would look at me and you would hate me. Everything I do from now will never be enough because I have disappointed you in every possible way without ever meaning to and—"

"You…want me to move on?" Dean couldn't believe what he had just heard. The truth behind those words were like rips from a knife on his skin. His chest burned.

Cas on the other hand was staring at the hunter as if he was afraid that he would explode. "Dean, I don't want you to hate me because of who I am."

"Tell me one thing, Cas. When you told me before that your grace was getting weaker, did you lie to me?"

"No, I didn't," Cas paced himself, trying to stay calm although he was on fire inside.

"So what weakened you, Cas?" Dean narrowed his eyes, head tilted as he tried to search for the worst kind of thing inside those blue eyes; dishonesty.

"I wanted…you," Cas didn't back down though. He didn't present a pregnant pause that would be filled with paranoia. "I wanted you physically, Dean. And I was fighting against my feelings, using every ounce of my grace to burn away how I was feeling. How I wanted to touch you. To kiss you. Dean…"

"You never answered my question," the hunter wouldn't give up. "Do you want me to move on?"

"I've broken you. You yourself have said it countless times. I don't see a reason why I should continue hurting you because nothing I do seems to be enough for you. If I was enough then you wouldn't wound me with your words as quickly as you did before. I thought we were happy, Dean. I don't want you to move on but it seems as if that's the path you will take because –"

"Cas!" Dean suddenly cried in a hoarse voice, "I love you! Dammit!"

At first, he couldn't believe what had been said. And because Cas' heart would not be stilled, he struggled. "How…" he stumbled on his words, and he stared. "I…don't…understand." Did he hear correctly? After all this time?

"There is nothing else for me to feel right now!" Dean pleaded with his eyes to be understood and it stunned the other man to a point where he merely stood there staring in bewilderment. "I've hated you until I couldn't anymore. For leaving me. For believing that I would cheat on you with someone else. A woman. Son of a bitch. This…" Dean stopped and pointed at Cas. "You…" he clamped his mouth shut and his jaw flexed. "When there was nothing else but me fucking dying in my bed, all I was left with was the memories of you…kissing…me," Dean's lips trembled. "Touching me. In places I ached for you to touch me every single second that you were gone. All of your words and how you taste…filled my damn head and got rid of the hate and I was left with nothing but love. The rawest kind of love. For you."

"Dean…"

"No, let me finish," the hunter's chest heaved. "You had no right…to leave without giving me a chance to explain myself because it felt like the worst kind of karma. I felt like everything between us had been destroyed And you know what kept killing me even more? The fact that you stayed away from me and you couldn't even talk to me. You didn't trust me anymore to even come down here and confront me about what had happened. Cas, we were in a relationship. We had our first fight and you promised that you wouldn't leave me because you believed in me and when you left, I even stopped believing in myself. And you didn't even tell me that Chuck fast forwarded the damn time. Dammit!"

Cas tried to take a deep breath and he could literally feel the shards of his broken heart stabbing his lungs. He stood there and faced those wet emerald eyes and all he wanted was to touch Dean. It was selfish. But he craved him so much more than before. He wanted to rip his clothes off and kiss him, every single inch of his body until he melted and folded and drowned. Until he let go of all his fears and his hurt and pain. And he decidedly started to close the distance between them but Dean…

Dean backed away, blinking fast. Reflex. "No," he said in a broken voice. "You shouldn't do that."

"I want to touch you," Cas fought to breath, drawing closer. "Dean, please."

"No," the hunter shook his head and his face contorted as he tried to fight the urge to cry. "You can't just come back and expect me to give you every single part of me."

"Dean, I love you."

"Cas!" he tried to bat the other man's hands away and still, when his butt hit the edge of the table, and the two of them stared at each other with a thousand burning flames behind their eyes, Dean quickly began to lose control.


	27. Dominance

They tasted each other's breaths at first. Their heads danced closer. Their chests heaved uncontrollably and when Cas rested his hand on the hunter's right shoulder, Dean shrugged away the touch. Because it was a sin to feel like he could let go of everything so fast to welcome home a war ship. To open up himself again and to let in a thousand reasons to love the man standing so close to him.

So, because he wanted to take charge of the situation. To prove that he had the will power to push forward and disregard those simple advances, Dean slipped out from between the table and Cas, and he started towards the door.

He was so sure of himself. So determined to walk away, to give it some more time. To at least sit down with Cas and exchange some more words. Maybe to settle things between them a little more. But perhaps the ultimate reason why they were perfect for each other was the fact that Cas didn't have the patience nor the time to wait. He had waited too damn long and because his mind was crazy in love with Dean, he went after him.

"I'm not letting you go ever again," Cas gravelly voice was firm when he reached out and took the other man's wrist. And pulling him back roughly, the hunter swung around and stared. "Don't you dare leave me." He started walking Dean backwards, a fierce kind of passion burning behind blue orbs. "I know that you still want me."

"You're so sure of that?" Dean swallowed hard although he kept retreating and yet. He always had the disadvantage. He always seemed to be cornered just like in that moment when his back pressed against the wall and all Dean wanted was to melt away. "Cas, don't do it," he pleaded in an uneven tone when the fire inside the other man's eyes burned brighter. "I need time."

"We don't have time," and grabbing the hunter's shoulders, Cas crushed his lips onto parted ones, immediately unearthing a muffled cry from Dean's throat.

Kissing him was like tapping into the only thing in the universe that was keeping Cas alive. The only source of hope and beauty and love.

Dean's body was on fire against Cas' chest. His arms rippled, the muscle under the hunter's skin defined as he balled his fists into Cas' black shirt and tried to push him away but he couldn't. Dean was overpowered and this time, he didn't have an opinion on what he liked or what he wanted. He couldn't breathe. And like an alcoholic returning to his first drink after being sober for a year, Dean drowned uncontrollably in Cas' taste. He sucked on the angel's bottom lip and pulled, then after driving pathways through Cas' hair with his fingers, Dean pulled him close and kissed him back so hard, his head twirled around dangerously.

Cas tasted so damn good, the hunter's toes curled in his boots and even after trying to break apart for a few seconds to give himself a chance to breathe, he couldn't do it. He just couldn't let go. He didn't want to let go. Dean felt like his body was on fire, like he was desperate to touch the other man, so much more than before. Like he wanted to feel every inch of Cas against his lips. And for the first time in a long time, he completely gave into the moment believing that now, everything that would happen between them was unearthing a physical reaction in every possible way.

It was like returning home from war and after being swamped in the destruction, now there was some kind of order to things. Now he wasn't barely alive. He was fully fueled and tilting Cas' face upwards, those blue eyes fluttering close, Dean grazed his teeth upon Cas' jawline and he teased afterwards with a trail of kisses. He sucked the soft skin on Cas' neck excited his pores with warm breath. And suddenly, Cas was straining so damn much inside his pants, his erection was painful because he hadn't been able to reach any kind of release in a long time. And because he couldn't have accomplished it by himself, he was agonized by the way Dean made him feel.

But they couldn't take what they wanted in the kitchen.

Although Dean realized how fucking turned on Cas was from his presence and the things he was doing with his mouth, he selfishly pushed him away. And staring into blue eyes, with his chest heaving uncontrollably, Dean boldly lowered his gaze to the definite bulge in the other man's black pants and he smiled. He smiled because he was suddenly in the reverse position like when they had shared their first kiss. And because he was also seriously turned on but managed to simmer down the need to be touched by Cas after all time they had spent apart, Dean did the one thing that stunned Cas.

"It's my birthday," the hunter said smirking, and totally unlike himself. "I decide when I want to unwrap that…gift" he gestured between Cas' legs. Blue eyes stared back in disbelief. "I really and truly would love to fuck you with my mouth but I'm not that easy. This is you paying with time for leaving me." And smoothly, he pressed the back of his hand to his sore lips, gave Cas one last longing gaze, and then Dean swiftly sauntered out of the kitchen.

When he returned to the War Room, the whispered conversations died down and suddenly, everyone was spritely again. Although Dean was quite certain that everyone had been talking about him and Cas, he ignored it. He wanted to prove to himself so badly that he was in control and he felt like it. Damn how he felt so steady all of a sudden. So bold and so damn secure and maybe it was because Cas had come back. No, he was so sure of it now. Cas had come back and Dean had what he wanted. He had his lifeline again.

But he wasn't going to let him get off easily though. He was going to make Cas pay in so many ways. Beginning with a decision he made to excessively tease the other man. Like when Cas eventually joined them in the War Room, apparently settled from the unnerving position he had been in, and Dean wondered what he had done. Dean avoided being near Cas for the rest of the evening although they shared small conversation among everyone else.

By the time the guests had cleared out with Sam tailing them to a hotel they had booked themselves into nearby, Cas was on the verge of believing that everything between him and Dean was over. That was until he stood by the sink washing up the plates that had contained cake and suddenly, he felt Dean before he cast his eyes on him. And when he was touched, it was more intimate, as the hunter squeezed Cas' shoulders and began to massage the upper middle section of his back with his firm thumbs.

"You're so tense, darling," Dean said softly, pulling back Cas' shoulders and encouraging him to relax a bit more. "Is this where your wings are?" and it was almost as if the hunter could see them because Dean began to massage right around Cas' shoulder blades that spurted his concealed wings.

"Dean," Cas' eyes fluttered close as he arched his back into the other man's warmth. "What are you…"

"Do you wrap your wings around me when we make love?" Dean's question was so sudden, Cas blinked at the wall in front of him. "Is that why I'm always so warm? Because you hold me inside your feathery cocoon?"

"I thought you said that you didn't want me now?" Cas croaked, feeling his throat burn from having doubts.

"I don't."

"Then why are you…" Dean extended his hands and wrapped Cas in a hug at first, forming an X in front of the angel's chest.

And Cas…Cas couldn't breathe. He dropped the plate into the soapy water and drowned like the sponge that was released from his grasp when Dean pressed him forward. It was so damn tormenting to feel everything behind him. Wedged between his rear, Cas felt how hard Dean was inside his pants and he wanted to turn around and kiss him but Dean wouldn't let him.

"I've been constantly dreaming of screwing you," the hunter buried his face into Cas' left shoulder and breathed hard whilst creating a rhythm. "Like…constantly. Bending you over and squeezing your shoulders whilst I just…dammit Cas. The things you do to me. Do you feel what you do to me? When you were gone, I was…" gasping for breath, Dean lowered his hands and took a hold of Cas' hips, his eyes squeezed shut as he kept grinding his cock still captured inside his pants between the other man's ass. "I was in so much pain over wanting you."

"I want you…now," Cas' mouth was so dry, he was thirsty and not just for water.

"You don't get to have me just like that."

"Since when did you turn so insolent?" Cas marveled over the change, catching his breath when he neared the edge from his cock grinding onto the edge of the sink. "Dean, if you don't stop, then I'm going to –"

"Come?" the hunter boldly asked into the shell of the other man's ear. "Hmm? Come for me, Cas. Right now. Inside your pants. Come hard for me and show me how much you missed me. I want you to…feel me without my hands touching you there. Right where you need me to –"

"Dean," Cas groaned, throwing his head back as the hunter sucked the soft, sensitive flesh between his neck and left shoulder. "Please."

"Please what?" running his palms over the angel's chest, Dean reached up and wrapped Cas into his arms protectively like if he was the safety bar on a roller coaster. And still he kept nearing the edge dangerously as well. Feeling how deserving the pleasure was to not be dreaming but to really have the man he loved so close to him.

"Don't let me go," Cas begged in his gravelly voice.

Dean's parted lips collected the angel's left earlobe and sucked. Pressing his hardened cock into the other man's rear, he squeezed his eyes shut and imagined just for guilty pleasure, that they were naked. And he was really doing this. There was nothing between them except slight doubt on where their feelings really resided. But apart from that, Cas' ass kept complying, gripping him firmly and wedging him in between there so perfectly, there was nothing else Dean could do but satisfy his fantasy.

"I'm a fool," he whispered into Cas' ear, nearing the edge dangerously. "For…holding back on giving you everything because…"

Cas was so breathless, he reached up and wrapped his arms over Dean's shield across his chest. And he felt so raw. So…alive.

"Because I can't live without you," the hunter continued. "I can't—"

"Fuck, Dean!" Cas swore for the first time since the other man had known him and his entire body tensed up. Groaning and twisting in Dean's grasp, Cas came hard inside his pants over and over again. And with every spurt of release, he felt like the world around him was dissolving and all that remained was Dean's protective arms around him like they should be.

And when Dean came afterwards, he folded into Cas and soaked his jeans' front, crying into Cas' shoulder from how intense the moment was. It reached a point where the two of them almost tumbled forward but holding Cas so close in his arms, Dean managed to turn the other man around and he kissed him. He kissed him so passionately, they didn't want to breath. They didn't feel like they needed oxygen ever again.

"I'm so glad that you came back to me," Dean buried his face into the crook of Cas shoulder and eventually started sobbing. "Cas, I missed you so damn much, you have no idea."

"I can feel how much you missed me, you assbutt," Castiel held Dean in his arms and smiled as he squeezed tears from his eyes. "You've soaked your jeans."

"So have you!" the hunter protested defensively, pulling back and staring into ocean eyes that were pinched from a grinning angel. Eventually, Cas rested their foreheads together and he chuckled.

Twenty minutes later found the two of them sprawled out on the roof of the bunker with a dust of twinkling stars above them. The sky was like a dark velvet blanket, and in the distance, there was the low rumble of traffic on the highway.

Every so often, Dean could hear the pulsating sounds of music drifting across the distance. Someone was having a party. And even though the world was alive around them, when he sat beside the love of his life, nothing else mattered.

They were shoulder to shoulder, both of them resting their backs on the steel ladder that led into the bunker. Dean had his legs stretched out, whilst Cas folded his neatly. And those blue eyes never left the sky.

It was like gazing at the most beautiful painting. Sitting there and considering Cas' profile and wondering how in the world he could become so lucky to have wounded and lost him and then just when he thought that there was no hope left, Cas had come back to him. But oh how he had been so infuriated when the angel came down the steps. He had been so damn upset that after all this time, after all the suffering, Cas had finally decided to come back to him. But he didn't know if they were on the same page anymore. And he had to know.

"Cas, do you still love me?" he foolishly asked because his brain was screaming from doubts.

Sighing, the other man lowered his gaze to the small trees behind the bunker. "Of course I still love you, Dean. I don't think that I ever stopped loving you. I told you once before that I will always love you until I no longer exist in this world."

"Yeah, but I don't know if your definition of love and my definition are the same thing…"

"What is your definition of love then, Dean?" Cas turned a little and tilted his head, offering a small frown.

For a while, the other man simply considered blue eyes. The wind lightly lifted Cas' hair and Dean reached out, his fingertips brushing the soft tendrils away from eyes that reminded him of a calm ocean.

"When think of love, I think of you, Cas," Dean said simply, his voice taking on a rustier quality.

"I thought you…hated me not so long ago."

"I did. Because I thought you left me permanently and I thought you gave up on us. You got to know, Cas, that if I don't have you, love doesn't make sense to me at all. And maybe I'm rambling here but I promise that from now on, I will keep giving you everything I can give you. I wouldn't take you for granted ever again. I wouldn't doubt you. Or choose anything else over you."

"Are you assuring me that we can make this work?"

"Do you think that we can't?"

The two of them gazed at each other for a long time as the night played its song. Then finally, Cas sighed again, and he lowered his eyes.

"Dean, you do realize that we want different things?" taking the hunter's right hand between his soft ones, Cas studied the other man's fingers one by one. "I want us to continue hunting so that we can help people. You want to leave that life behind to keep us safe. I can't procreate with you—"

"Come on, Cas," Dean whined. "Don't."

"How will we have children?"

"We will adopt," Dean said softly and with a composed mind as if he had given it too much thought. "We talked about this before, remember?"

"Forgive me but for the past weeks I have suffered through so much trauma, there are things that were buried under the rubble."

"We said that we would try to adopt siblings if we can. Two girls. Or…two boys. But we're not there yet. When the time comes, we will handle it."

"Dean, I don't know how this works. I am not sure of the order of things and maybe it frightens me that we have become so confused by our actions that we are not on the same page but—"

"Hey, I feel the same way," Dean squeezed Cas' hand between his. "Which is why we're having this talk now because I need us to be on the same wave length. Like for instance, I need to know where you were all this time when you weren't with me. Did you go to Scotland? Were you in Heaven? Where did you go?"

Just for a while, those blue eyes gazed longingly at the stars. And Dean counted every single one. He collected them inside his mind into little pockets of memory that would never fade away. Ever

"I was in Heaven in a room that felt like a tomb," Cas confessed at last. "I didn't get up for days on end. I just would lie there in a cold bed and stare at the ceiling and all I could think about was you. Why did you kiss her? Why didn't you love me enough? And then when I came down to earth after such a long time and I faced you in that bar, and you told me that you still loved me…I couldn't believe how I had been so wrong."

"Darling," Dean's cupped fingers caressed the other man's right cheek softly. "Why do you always feel the need to punish yourself whenever something goes wrong? Purgatory, now this? This ain't bible school and you don't have to do penance for every goddamn thing that goes wrong. And Cas, this wasn't all your fault. I was to blame too because of how I overreacted when I found out you still have your wings. I am so sorry that I jumped over the fact that you saved me and I ran straight into something else."

"I'm sorry too," Cas said softly, entwining their fingers.

Dean stared off into the distance and mulled over his own thoughts for a while.

Cas on the other hand couldn't help but admire every single inch of the other man's face. The curl of his eyelashes. The slight arch of his brow. The perfectly sculpted lips that he loved to kiss. Dean's light stubble and his scent was so intoxicating.

"Love to me is seeing constellations in your eyes and feeling safe in your arms," Cas said. Green eyes met his blue ones. "Love is sleeping with your head on my chest and feeling your heart beat under my fingers. The taste of your lips and the way you gaze at me as if I'm the most beautiful thing you've ever seen."

"Cas," Dean croaked, his eyes glistening from tears.

"Love is you boasting about me to a complete stranger and you holding on for so long, hoping and wanting me to come back to you. I don't think that everyone would have done that, Dean. I don't think other people would have waited on me. But you did. You suffered along with me and you still kept loving me. And maybe I'm selfish for admitting this, but I wouldn't rewind time because what we've been through has brought us to a deeper level of connecting."

"It has," Dean nodded slowly. "There's a saying that love is never easy. It's hard. It comes with challenges and fights and if you're still together after all of the drama, it's worth it."

"Maybe I'm going to fall and lose my wings and my grace," Cas said suddenly as a tear leaked down his cheek, "but I would give up everything just to be with you."

When he said it, the words forced on a hoarser quality to his voice. Dean found himself biting his lips, wondering if little valleys of pain still ran through the cracks in Cas' heart. He wondered if when Cas looked at him, like really looked at him, he discovered a stretch of hope and promise and everything else. Or maybe, Cas was still uncertain about them. About what would happen eventually. Maybe they would collide and combust. But he always thought that their kind of collision would explode into a million beautiful galaxies.

"I don't want you to fall or…lose your grace," Dean admitted softly. He couldn't stop gazing at Cas. "Not for me."

"Why?" the angel studied uncertainty in green orbs and frowned. "Do you still think that there is anything in my life more worthy of you?"

"I mean, it's painful, isn't it?" the hunter's eyes suddenly were softened again from tears as he studied their entwined hands. "Sam said that when an angel falls, there's so much…confusion and trauma. I mean, I don't doubt that you love me. Sure I don't. But I'm not going to put you through that."

"But it's my decision," Cas said simply. And when he said it and he noted the small light inside Dean's eyes blink out like the wind had carried it away, he regretted his choice of words. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound so arrogant. If it is something that would unsettle you this much then I will remove it from the equation."

Gulping down an answer, Dean nodded and tried to take measured breaths. He couldn't quite fathom the weight of the other man's every word like a hammer hitting on his heart.

"So you were so smitten with me, you turned down Cassandra," Cas finally tried again to lighten the air between them. When he noticed that Dean smiled a little, his heart felt somewhat content.

"I kind of knew that something was off about her," the hunter confessed in a softer tone. "Wasn't just the eyes," he held up two fingers and pointed at his pair. "It was something else. Something I…felt."

"Really?" Cas was intrigued.

"Yeah, I felt something familiar when you were there. Call me crazy but in simpler terms, it was the crazy notion you've always had about us sharing a profound bond. And when I felt it, I thought that maybe the blue eyes were leading me back to the feeling of you sitting opposite me and pulling apart a cheeseburger with this adorable frown on your face. But then it was also something else. I don't know," Dean tried to shrug it off with a half laugh. "Sam would call it true love or soul mates or something like that which is crazy because…"

After a few seconds as Dean's words trailed off, Cas held his breath. "Why is the idea of me being your soul mate a crazy one?"

Dean shrugged again and his cheeks were incredulously dusted in a soft shade of pink. His lips twitched into a small smile. He nervously scratched the back of his neck and then, he discovered that his lungs had quit working.

"When you blush, Dean, you are so beautiful," Cas said smiling.

"I'm not blushing," the hunter tried to sound defensive but he failed miserably. Instead, his voice cracked and he choked on losing the ability to form a string of words.

"Dean…"

"Angel don't have souls. So the whole…soul mate thing is kind of ridiculous because of that."

Cas reached out and raked back Dean's soft hair. He smiled. "You're not that shallow after all."

"Hey!"

"What?" Cas laughed and the sound was like music to the other man's ears. "Tell me something. Can you really feel every inch of your body that I've touched?" When green eyes widened, Cas reveled in the effect. "Where my mouth has wandered and my hands have explored?"

Slowly, Dean nodded. The other man's words were always like excerpts from a poem.

"When I was in Heaven, I…" Cas smiled at the sky, "…was constantly kept alive by the feel of your hands on me. Burning my pores alive. Perhaps…keeping me alive and I always kept wondering that if I came to you again, would you kiss me the way you always did…"

"How…did I always kiss you?" Dean was breathless. His question sounded so stupid when the words slipped from his lips.

Cas, for a moment, blinked up at the stars, elbows resting on his folded lap. "You always kissed me like you were trying to taste some part of me that wasn't physical. Maybe ethereal. Celestial. And when we kissed tonight, it was so much more. You were dominant in both instances. Which I highly favored," Cas admitted with a smile. "But also, you weren't as hesitant as before. I feel as if everything has changed between us. But in a good way."

"You broke my heart, Cas," Dean croaked. He bit his lips when they held a painful gaze. And then he sniffed and reached up to flick a tear away. Casting his eyes to the pulsating city before them, he sighed. "Sam's friend told me to give it two months. Tops. Then if you didn't come back or reach out, I had to start letting you go. But how can anyone just do something like that as if it's the easiest thing in the world? I would literally cry myself to sleep and then I'd wake up and I'd skip coffee… I stopped drinking coffee, Cas!"

Blue eyes were as wide as saucers.

"Dammit, I stopped stuffing all the calories and I started making these changes. All because of what? Because I wanted to get in control again. I wanted to prove to myself that if I couldn't change what happened between us, then I could change everything else. I played the fucking power card. On myself. And now I'm sitting here and I feel like after cutting back on all these things that were killing me slowly like Sam said, I'm a whole new person. But that's just half of it." When Dean leaned in and rested their foreheads together, Cas' heart skipped a beat. "The other half is…us. You and me."

"I'm sorry," Cas tried in a soft, broken voice. He rubbed their noses together affectionately as their lips inched closer. "I promise that I will spend the rest of my life fixing the broken pieces of your heart back together. Even if…" he slipped a finger between their faces an inch apart and stopped Dean from talking. "Even if you think it's not my job to fix your heart. Because it is my job. And I love you."

Green eyes blinked slowly. "I love you too, Cas –"

"Anddddddd….cut!" Sam's voice suddenly slipped into their blissful moment. He slow clapped as his brother and his best friend pulled apart, and the former directed a threatening glare. "That's a wrap, You two are so adorable. I swear, I always manage to walk in on the most romantic moments. It's like I'm the definition of a cockblocker."

"You ass," Cas mumbled, leaning back and stretching out his legs as he let out a long sigh. "We were about to kiss."

"Right?" Dean was still breathless and he shook his head when Sam joined them, his long spidery legs dangling over the edge of the roof. "We were almost there. Like half a freaking second away."

"Calm your tits," Sam chuckled, his green eyes shining with mischief. "There will be plenty of time for kissing and groping each other in the dark, all naked and sweaty. I mean, the makeup sex will probably wake me up so I should just head out and book myself in a motel room for the night."

Dean smiled warmly. "Jody and the brood got settled in?"

"Alex hated that she has to share a room with a moody Claire but then Claire passed out a minute after so everything's fine." Sam raked back his hair. "Did you know that Jody and Donna are engaged?"

"Like a month ago," Dean admitted, offering a shocked look. "You didn't know?"

"I didn't!"

"Dude, the two of them showed us their matching rings over Skype! What the hell were you doing at the moment? Playing with yourself? It was freaking weeks ago. Man, you're so spaced out since you slept with Mala and I –"

"You slept with Mala?" Cas leaned forward to capture Sam's attention.

The younger Winchester groaned, shielding his face as if ashamed. Leave it to his brother to highlight the most eventful things in his simply boring life apart from hunting.

"He did," Dean couldn't help himself. "In the den where we gather peacefully to spend some quality family time. I found her red lace panties the day after wedged between the cushions. And her gold hoop earring was behind the tv –"

"Dean!" Sam interrupted, his face covered in a shade of pink that was quite unbecoming of him.

"This is me paying you back for screwing up the perfect moment where I could have kissed Cas under the stars. Every single time you do this. Every freaking time. You did it when we were about to share our first kiss and now this is basically our first kiss after a goddamn long time and you…you ruined it!"

"He needs to get laid," Sam leaned forward and met Cas' eyes. "Like tonight, okay?"

Dean clenched his fists and groaned. "Go fetch us beers, slave."

After his brother unfolded his long limbs and trampled down the steps pouting, Cas allowed a slow rumble of laughter to escape from his chest.

"Yeah, laugh all you want," Dean scowled, nudging their shoulders together and folding his arms. "He doesn't get a free pass. I never interrupt his moments. And you know what? I am in control. Screw fate."

"You're very much in control. Dean, what are…" but before Cas could protest, the hunter had swung his leg over the angel's thighs clad in jeans. And collecting Cas' face between his palms, Dean pressed a soft kiss onto parted lips.

At first, they gazed at each other lovingly. It was the softest moment for both of them. Knowing that a simple taste of their lips contained a million unsaid words and feelings. And then Dean kissed Cas so deeply, he unearthed a low moan from the other man. His fingers curled behind Cas' ears, and on his knees, Dean pressed forward, providing as much dominance as he possibly could. Taking all he could get. Trying to make amends and at the same time, trying to make up for lost time.

And when Cas held the hunter's face and pushed their lips apart, those blue eyes were wide and searching. Trying to find every single second that provided enough clarity that this wasn't a figment of his imagination. That he wasn't kissing Dean's ghost. That he wasn't growing mentally insane and he wasn't still in Heaven on that cold bed inside an awful tomb. And he wasn't dying.

Now, when Dean collected Cas inside his arms, hugging him tightly and nuzzling their faces together, Cas' heart wanted to leap out of his chest. It wasn't just blissful. It was exhilarating to know that after all that they had been through, they were together. And maybe, just maybe, no matter what fate threw at them, they could work through things.

"Beers," Sam handed out one each after he returned to find his brother and Cas seated side by side, their hands entwined on Dean's lap. "So, what now? The two of you talked things through, I guess. But Jody was really worried that you weren't going to get together again. So, I've got to ask. Are you two together again?"

"Cas, do you hear something?" Dean squinted his eyes. "Sounds like the wind is howling really loud, huh?"

"There are a few things that we need to work on," Cas leaned forward and gave Sam his full attention.

"As a couple?" Sam was still inquisitive. Dean scowled at him. "What? You asked Mala the same question the last time she was over here. Why can't I ask Cas the same thing? Seems only fair. Besides, you two broke up, didn't you? You were trying to be happy again and you were dating again so—" Sam clamped his hand on his mouth and literally felt like his insides had turned to ice.

For a moment, maybe one that stretched out in a few seconds which felt like five minutes, Dean stared at his brother and couldn't believe that he could have allowed something so insignificant to slip out into the open.

He had been forced, by Dave and his stupid motives to have a go at a speed dating night at a local bar. And after moving through fifteen random strangers, men and women included, his options were narrowed down to two; a blue eyed Led Zeppelin fan girl with a pixie cut, and a blue eyed New Yorker who owned a bookstore. The latter played the guitar and wrote poetry. He performed in small clubs and won awards. His name was Pete and although Pete had everything that would be considered possibly attractive in any other situation, Dean never called him back.

Brooke on the other hand had stayed in touch because she was the kind of woman who could smell a heartbroken man a mile away like Amanda. And she felt that it was her duty to fix him by constantly checking up on how he was doing and if he wanted to hang out.

Now though, Dean could feel Cas' eyes on him.

"You were doing the best you could with the pain you were trying to live with," Sam finally said softly. "Sorry I had to bring it up."

"It's fine," Dean said with a shrug, avoiding those blue piercing orbs. "Nothing happened really. Wouldn't even call it dating. I was…stupid," he stole a glance at Cas and awaited the verdict. "I wasn't going to get over you no matter who came along."

"You're not stupid," Cas said softly, squeezing the hunter's hand inside of his. "You were trying to be happy and although it hurts to know that you were considering other options, I couldn't be one of those because I had selfishly distanced myself from you. So please do not feel guilty. I'm the one who should."

Whilst the two of them stared at each other, Sam sipped on his beer and his eyes followed an airplane heading south, a line of lights blinking on each wing. Mala was probably on her way back from New York already. He couldn't wait to see her. She had promised to bring back a few Harry Potter merchandise for him.

"I'm tired," Dean said after a while when Cas nor his brother provided any other topics. Somehow, he felt as if something was hanging in the air and maybe it was the guilt that was weighing him down.

"Yeah, me too," Sam sighed. Could things really work with him and Mala? She reminded him so much of Eileen and maybe that was the reason why he kept longing for her so much. But was that normal? To feed off of someone's love and affections simply because a little part of it reminded you of someone you used to love?

After a while, Sam decided that he needed to wallow in his own space. So he left. Maybe he shouldn't have but then again, he felt that the two people who mattered the most to him needed their own space as well. And when he left, at first, nothing was said between the two who remained on the roof. Nothing at all, until Dean felt like he was going to cry and he would become soft all over again.

"Can you talk to me?" Dean tried in a tone that sounded more like he was pleading.

Cas on the other hand was trying to slow down his heartbeats. "Maybe I'm jealous."

"Of what?"

"Of them," Cas confessed as his chest trembled. "Of all the people who slept with you before and you went all the way with. The ones who kissed you before I kissed you. The first guy you fell in love with in high school. The people you dated when I was gone. Every single person that asks for your number when we go out. And maybe I'm the one who's stupid really," Cas said as his eyes clouded with tears. "Because I'm the one who left and I gave you no other choice but to look for some kind of happiness in some other person and—"

"Cas…"

"What?"

Dean locked their eyes together and held the tears at bay. "No one else matters but you, okay? You want to know what really happened? I was forced to go on this speed dating crap. By the end of the night, I was matched with two people who shared the same color eyes as you do. It's like, I kept looking for your eyes. And I couldn't find you in anyone else. Cas, this is not going to work if we keep looking back on the past. So, can we just focus on what we have now and what lies ahead?"

After two seconds, Cas slowly snaked his arm around Dean's waist and tugged him closer. Then burying his face into the familiar smell of Irish Spring, he sighed and closed his eyes. "Of course."

But there was something else. Something that felt kind of…what was it? Warm like a cloud surrounding him, and although Dean tried to ignore the actuality of a fascinating occurrence, he had to wonder out loud.

"Are your…are your wings wrapped around us right now?"

Cas nodded. "Like a cocoon."

"I can't see them. Can I see them?" Dean asked like a small child begging to be handed his favorite toy.

"Close your eyes—"

"Casss." Dean groaned but complied anyway. The soft wind kissed his face and he thoroughly enjoyed the elevated feeling of flying, with Cas' arm wrapped comfortably around him. "Come on, show me the sexy wings. Are they black? Are they soft and—" something soft indeed brushed his right arm and at first, he stiffened.

The feeling was so…surreal. It was like his entire body was suddenly awake. His pores were excited and there were little bolts of nerves like eels swirling around his midsection. And although Dean tried to calm himself down, he couldn't because Cas was breathing slowly into the crook of his shoulder. His warm breath was tormenting and pleasing enough to force Dean to swallow down his excitement.

"Do you feel anything?" Cas asked softly, pressing a kiss onto his lover's neck.

"Um…yeah," Dean laughed nervously with his eyes still closed. "Shit, why am I so freaking terrified to see them for the first time?"

Cas was smiling into the smoothness of the hunter's skin upon his neck. "Open your eyes."

Dean shook his head. "I can't…"

"Why can't you?"

"Because…I don't know what to expect, Cas."

"Dean, just do it. I promise you that there is nothing about me that will terrify you in any way. Do you love me?"

"Of course I do," the hunter said quickly, with enough feeling on every word. "I love every inch of you. I've seen every inch of you except your wings, dammit. I'm gonna do it. Here goes." Dramatically, he puffed out air through his lips as if prepping for a race.

And then…

When Dean's eyes fluttered open, at first he was wildly aware of his vision being obscured by something new. It wasn't what he had expected. In fact, the cluster of feathers shielding his view from the top of the bunker was too surreal. And maybe he was about to have a mild panic attack but perhaps Cas read his mind because suddenly, those jet-black wings pulled apart from in front of the hunter's eyes and extended on either side of them. And craning his neck to follow the smooth flow of movement, Dean was suddenly so impressed by what he discovered, he gasped.

On either side of them was a pair of the most majestic and beautiful and out of this world fantastic wings he had ever seen in his life or in the movies. Six feet, he averaged, with glints of gold in between the feathery softness. He boldly reached out and touched his fingers to the nearest cluster of fluff and oh god was Cas' wing fluffy.

"You've been hiding these babies for so many years," Dean whistled in admiration. "Promise me that you wouldn't get rid of them. Like…ever. Because this is the perfect alternative to a blanket and I'm always cold at nights. And wait…come on!" Green eyes widened when the wing he had been caressing glimmered and then disappeared. "Cas! Come on, man. Show me them again, dammit."

"No. Your time is up for now. You'll get to see them some more later on. But for now, I can literally feel how exhausted you are. It's late and I'd like you to sleep."

"Cas!"

"No!"

Five minutes later, whilst Dean dragged his feet and sulked towards his room, Cas followed in tow with a small adorable smile on his face. He felt…contented again. His heart was full. But then, when Dean stepped over the threshold into his bedroom, Cas hovered by the door and frowned at his boots.

Instantly, the hunter realized that a considerable amount of distance had been placed between them and he turned around. When their eyes met, it was Cas who appeared somewhat hopeful but hesitant. He wanted to proceed but how? And then, when his mind screamed that he shouldn't go into Dean's bedroom, his heart begged him to. His heart soaked up all the love and pain and gave him a push but Dean…

Dean shook his head and swallowed hard. "Um," his voice was hoarser now. His eyes flicked to the floor, hands falling to his sides. "I don't think that we should…you know." He shrugged. "Sleep in the same bed. Not as yet, anyway."

"Why?" Cas felt his heart give a twist into a wave of agonizing pain.

"We just…shouldn't." And because he had taken the dominant role and asserted what he felt was a completely ignorant request, Dean felt terrible all of a sudden.

"You don't want me to sleep with you?" Cas tried again, still confused. "I thought that we were doing just fine. I'm quite aware that I've returned less than six hours ago. But since then, we've opened up to each other. I've explained myself immensely to you and I've…we've kissed more than once."

"Cas, we just can't…" Dean scratched at his right temple, avoiding eye contact, "…jump into this so fast, okay?"

"Jump into what exactly, Dean?" suddenly, Cas' tone hinted that he was slightly irritated.

"Don't be angry at me, please."

"I'm not angry. I'm suddenly hurt and confused and I'd like to know if we are indeed on the same page," Cas tried to soften his tone. "What are we now? Are we still in a relationship? Are we…friends?"

"Friends don't kiss each other or do the things I did to you tonight in the kitchen, Cas," Dean admitted as his cheeks colored pink. "Look, man, this…us? It's complicated right now. I'm not saying that we're not together. I'm just asking you to give me some space at least because I'm telling you, Cas, if you jump into bed with me tonight, then there's no turning back."

"From…what?" Cas was so cute when he was confused, Dean's heart melted.

"I will rip your clothes off and taste every single part of you, Cas. I want to give you the best damn blowjob that will literally blow your mind wide open. Goddammit, I will…" Dean clenched his fists and his chest heaved. "I will make love to you all night and I'll get no sleep at all. And when I say make love, I mean go all the way because—"

"Dean," Cas' voice was so hoarse, his chest heaving, he stared wide eyed and couldn't fight down the visions of them in between the sheets.

"Because I'm ready," Dean continued. He bit his lips, breathed through his mouth and tried to compose himself. Those green eyes were on fire. "But we can't do that tonight, Cas. Good night."

But the other man was already shaking his head in disbelief. Cas stepped back and blinked back the tears. "It's fine," he said in his gravelly tone, and his voice was unsteady. "Have it your way, Dean. I've waited for a long time. I can wait a little longer. But just remember that…the kind of lives we live, tomorrow is a blessing and all we have is this moment. And if we keep waiting, and then something tragic happens, like when you were stabbed and I almost lost you…you can't expect me to…" he stopped. Cas stopped because he couldn't defend his views. Dean would never understand. Instead, he sighed. "Good night."

"I can't expect you to what?" Dean pressed on, his voice unsteady too because it took every ounce of his strength to keep Cas so far away from him. He doubted whether he would sleep at all that night.

"I want you, Dean," Cas stopped at his bedroom door, the one room that was always reserved from him across the hall. He stared at the door and felt a small fire building inside of him. "All I want is to be with you right now."

"And I want you too, Cas," Dean stood within the shadowed depths of his room and felt a tear trickle down his cheek. "And it would be the best birthday gift but I can't…"

"You know, maybe the problem has always been me," Cas couldn't stop himself from voicing his worst fears. "Maybe it's the fact that I'm a man and that's why you're always so hesitant to make love to me. You really don't feel comfortable at all. I've felt it for a long time and I've given you time. I've given you all the time you would need to perhaps decide by yourself if this is what you want—"

"Wow," Dean was so taken aback, he blinked repeatedly. "That's rich…coming from you. I've always given you the best that I could. I've always wanted to give you everything you wanted. But go ahead and make me feel like crap like you always do with the worst possible timings. I love you, Cas. I've said it over and over again. I don't know what else you want from me."

"Dean…"

"All I asked is for you to give me tonight by myself so maybe…" Dean's cheeks were wet, "…maybe I could curl up and remember the best birthday I've ever had…in my bed. By myself."

The two of them stared at each other. For a long time, something passed between them. Something so powerful, it was overwhelming on both ends. Dean realized that both of them could become so sensitive over the most trivial matters. It wasn't something that he was used to. He always passed things off and didn't really read too much into what was said.

But now.

Every single word that came out of Cas' mouth was always like a little bomb that exploded in his heart. And Dean always felt so badly of himself. He felt so weak at times in Cas' presence that one little word could deprive him of his strength. Of his belief in himself. And no one had ever made him feel so soft before. No one.

"I'm such an ass," Cas said, hugging himself and feeling pathetic. "I keep screwing up and I don't understand how you can still love me after everything I say or do. I can't keep…" When Dean closed the distance between them, Cas stared in bewilderment. "You deserve better than—"

"Shh," Dean walked the other man backwards until he was sandwiched between him and the door. And then, when Cas tried to plead his case again, Dean pressed a kiss onto parted lips. The worry began to fade away. Little by little, the world around them seemed clearer.

"Dean, I didn't mean what I said. I just really hate myself now because of what I did and—" and Cas was silenced by another kiss, this time, an even deeper one that curled his toes. Their bodies were pressed together so perfectly, he could feel everything. How hard Dean was in his pants. How hot his breath was upon Cas' face. How he kept his hands to his side and used his mouth alone to take control; to seduce the hell out of Cas. And Cas…Cas melted.

"I'll keep loving you until I take my last breath," Dean said softly, pulling apart and taking a step backwards. "Sure, you can push me so far that I get so angry and see red. But it doesn't change the way I feel about you. I've loved you for too long to let anything stop me." And when he went into his room and shut the door, Dean sighed.

Tumbling onto his bed, he collected his pillow, buried his face into the softness and although he tried not to cry, he did. It was agonizing. His chest shuddered. He screamed into the light yellow fabric that was dotted with daisies. He balled his fists and writhed on his stomach on the bed. Trying to expel all the pain and all the trauma and yet…he was so fucking happy that Cas had come back. He really was. But he wasn't so sure that they were on the same page. Not really.

Cas, whilst he was in Heaven, had taken enough time to swim around in his mind. He had developed so many doubts. He had obviously been questioning his relationship with Dean. Every single word that came out of Cas' mouth was always the truth. For many years, Dean always had a problem with that trait. Cas, regardless of what was happening, would always be brutally honest and maybe he couldn't always say what he wanted to say in the right way. But there was always that small part of everything that left Dean feeling like shit.

And now, Dean's pillow was wet, so wet, that he tossed it onto the floor, curled up in a ball and he did the one thing he was always good at.

"Cas," he said softly, his voice broken, "I hope you can hear me. I know you can. I know…" he sniffed and although he tried, he couldn't stop the tears from coming, "I know that I'm not everything you want me to be. I'm not perfect. But I always try to do my best with you. I really do, and if my best isn't enough then, I don't know what else to do…." He stopped all of a sudden and couldn't even say anything else until the room grew so silent, and the bunker hummed around him. And Dean…

Dean fell asleep feeling like Cas' wings were still wrapped around him comfortably.


	28. Healing

**A/N - Thank you, readers! Thanks for your feedback! I love you all!**

xxx

* * *

Dean resurfaced at midday to discover Cas finishing off the puzzle on the map table. He was hovering over the last five pieces, with a cup of tea on his right and a plate of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on his left.

The trench coat was nowhere to be seen. Instead, Cas had changed his clothes although he never really had to as an angel. But Dean was thankful for the sight that greeted him. Cas looked damn good in a pair of black jeans and the ACDC long sleeved sweater he had slipped into made him look so adorable, Dean melted on the spot.

His hair was tousled. To an outsider, he might have looked as if he had a night of the best sex ever. His hands were always so steady and graceful. Fitting another piece into the right spot, Cas sighed.

"Did you sleep well?"

Dean startled from the question. "No points for me for trying to sneak up on you."

"I can always sense where you are, Dean," Cas said, comfortably fitting the last piece in its slot. "There. Now Sam owes me an apology."

"What did he do now?" Dean collapsed on the chair closest to the other man and lightly squeezed his left arm. When their eyes met, the two of them smiled lovingly at each other.

Their last encounter had been…emotional to say the least. There were a few things that still irked Dean, however, he had an entire night to mull over things. So his verdict was that maybe Cas was as stressed out as he was from the long break away from each other. Maybe Cas was also sexually frustrated because Dean was quite aware of Cas' sex drive. And if the angel had spent a little over two weeks in a room all by himself with no other way to vent his frustrations, then Cas was truthfully itching for a roll over in bed.

Also, the things that were said were probably taken out of context. Dean realized that maybe they could become too sensitive around each other. But they had every reason to be. There wasn't any room to have doubts and fill in the blanks anymore. Now, more than ever, they needed to be open and ask questions and find certainty. And if doing that required an emotional range the size of a spaceship, then so be it.

Cas dipped his head and softly pressed their lips together. He savored the feeling for a few seconds and then pulled away. "He told me that angels weren't smart enough to complete puzzles."

"Huh," Dean frowned. "That doesn't sound like Sam. Did he go for his morning run?"

"Yes," Cas settled into the chair next to the other man and faced him with eyes that searched green ones intently. It was almost as if he was trying to seek out every single moment he had missed whilst they were apart during the night.

"Don't do that," Dean said, blinking and glancing away with a small smile. "Did he get his green juice?"

"Don't do what? And yes."

"Probe me with your ocean eyes, that's what." Dean reached out and affectionately flicked the tip of Cas' nose. "His…eggs were sunny side up?"

"I didn't make eggs. He made waffles for us."

"How sweet," Dean made a face. "I wonder why he's in a sour mood."

"Because…" Sam's tall form appeared by the doorway leading into the kitchen, "…Cas told me that he showed you his wings. And he refuses to show me. I don't like you anymore," he directed at the angel who beamed at him. "I've been studying angels for months now. I've only seen their wings on a freaking page. Like for once I'd like to see yours and you're my best friend, man. Why can't you show me them?"

"You owe me an apology first. There were 50 pieces remaining and I completed the puzzle."

"Show me your wings," Sam folded his arms and scowled.

"That the same tone you use when you asked Mala to show you her tits?" Dean deadpanned. When his brother scowled deeper, he sighed. "Look, maybe it's a privilege you can't get just yet," Dean provided with a shrug. "I got to see them first because well…you know. I've seen him naked already so."

"So have I," Sam admitted.

Dean swallowed hard. "Wait, what?"

Cas rolled his eyes, arms folded. "It was one time by mistake. I was changing and the door creaked open and he walked in, so naturally, I turned around and then Sam saw all of me."

"You perv," Dean scolded his brother who stared back at him incredulously. "You should have averted your eyes, dammit. He's mine! You don't get to see what's mine."

"Are we really having this conversation?"

"Are you really throwing a fit over not being able to see my boyfriend's wings?"

"So he's your boyfriend again," Sam folded his arms and raised an eyebrow. When Dean flicked his eyes up the ceiling, the taller Winchester rounded on Cas. "Dude, remember all the times when you fell out with this jerk here, and I was the one who checked up on you? I set up meetings so we could talk. When he shaded you, I was the best friend. Not him. Not Dean freaking Winchester."

Slowly, and groaning, Cas rose up from his chair, shoulders slumped, and he sent Sam a wary look. "Fine. I might have fallen in love with him, yes. But you were always the one I emptied my feelings onto. So…" spreading out his arms, Cas willed his wings to appear. And when they did, the look on Sam's face could have won him an Oscar.

He folded over a little at first. Those green eyes sparkled with so much intrigue. Then he slowly circled the wings protruding from the back of Cas' sweater as if examining an amazing car in a show room.

"Man, this…" Sam whistled.

"Don't get too close. They bite," Dean teased, stealing one of Cas' sandwiches.

"Reading about this is so mediocre compared to the real thing. I have a few questions though."

"Of course you do," Dean rolled his eyes and dusted his hands on the thighs of his jeans. "But don't mind me."

"Sure," Cas provided, feeling entirely awkward on display like an exhibit in a museum. "Take your time."

Ignoring his brother, Sam lit up like a light bulb. "Are wings…actually tangible? Or are they only of substance as they are right now because you're allowing them to exist on a plane that we can see and feel them? I'm only asking because your true form is a celestial being so…aren't your wings also supposed to be…I don't know…magical as I might call it?"

"Magical, no," Cas shook his head and perched himself on the edge of the map table next to Dean's right hand. The hunter was a bit taken aback by the strategic position, nevertheless, he savored it. Although the wings had flickered out of sight. "Angels do have a form. Mine of course isn't the likes of a human. I'm several times the size of this bunker alone. But vessels can contain us because we are, in a sense, controlled by humanity's belief and faith in us. My wings are merely sized smaller than reality. But they are real. Not magical."

"Doesn't make complete sense," Sam frowned a bit. "But I'll get to the bottom of this. I just need to do some more reading in order to understand."

"Just like you needed to read about sex in school to figure it out," Dean teased with a smile.

Sam, ignored his brother's remark and hastily exited the room, probably on his way to the library. And when he was gone, then and only then did Cas round on the older Winchester with a look of utter dismay.

"What?" Dean stared back with widened eyes. He quickly dabbed the back of his hand over his chin. "Is peanut butter on my face?"

"I'd ask you to try to tone down the harsh remarks directed at your brother," Cas closed the distance between them and resumed his perch on the table, "but then you would only continue as per normal."

"I was only joking with him," Dean said defensively. "It's a big brother thing. Besides, Gabriel used to do that to you all the time. Tease you. So you get it."

Cas sighed, "I do but…referring to Mala all the time? Really, Dean? Can you be more obvious at the moment?"

The hunter shrugged. He collected a bread crumb and grinded it between his fingers. "She's hates chocolate ice cream, The Vampire Diaries and Downton Abbey."

"Dean, I don't like those things either…"

"But you're different!"

"How?" Cas smiled a little and he ruffled the other man's hair. "Why do I get a free pass and Mala doesn't?"

"Because I'm in love with you?" Dean tried in a soft tone, peering up into blue eyes and feeling his neck grow warmer. "Because like I said, no matter what, I always will?" He couldn't understand how the other man could become so oblivious to the truth sometimes.

"But Dean, if Sam likes her, then we need to respect his decision," Cas' cupped fingers caressed the hunter's perfect jawline. He missed these moments so much.

"She's not Eileen."

"I'm not Lisa and Sam never really liked her but he respected that you did."

"Cas, that's besides the point," Dean frowned. He collected the other man's cupped fingers inside his own and entwined their hands instead. "Look, I'm telling you, man. There's something off about her."

"Okay, I'm listening," Cas pulled a chair closer and settled on it, facing Dean with their thighs pressed together. "Tell me about her since I missed out a lot."

Cas really missed out a lot. And maybe he shouldn't have but sometimes in life, there were certain decisions that could be made that weren't perfect. He had made one of those impulsive choices. He had come to terms with walking away at that moment, being the most suitable one. But oh how he missed the color of those green eyes. Or the shape of Dean's lips. The perfectly handsome face that he could caress. And those amazing toned arms.

"So, she claims that she's a hunter, right?"

"Mmhmm," Cas blinked slowly, drinking in every inch of Dean's face.

"And I've asked around and no other hunter, not even Garth knows about her. She said that she was born in India and moved to the U.S about two years ago. Her dad was a hunter but no one knows him. And she keeps calling me Doug."

"Maybe she does it to get a rise out of you," Cas shrugged.

"Cas, come on…" Dean whined. "This isn't funny, okay? He's my brother and I'm always looking out for him. It's just what I do. Just like he always does the same for me. And look how he helped us along the way. I can't let him topple over. He's smitten but I'm not buying any of what she's selling."

"And that's okay," Cas squeezed the hunter's right arm. "You're allowed to be severely paranoid. But Dean…maybe you should let Sam figure this out by himself. He gave you enough space to figure us out, didn't he?"

"Um, no," Dean pointed out. "He meddled every step of the way. He held an intervention in the kitchen. He set us up on a date. Or did you forget?"

"All I'm saying, is that maybe you're overreacting a bit—"

"I'm not overreacting!"

"Well ain't this peachy," Donna's voice suddenly sounded from the top of the steps and both of them startled. Hands planted on her waist, she beamed down at the two who were obviously confused why the door didn't make a damn sound. "Oh, I kind of oiled this baby yesterday when we were here," she noted as if reading their minds. "So you two, huh?"

Coming down the steps, Jody finally showed herself behind her fiancée and Alex was in tow. There was no sign of Claire, who in fact, had threatened the night before to ditch them all and chase after a friend in Austin.

"Figured you'd need sustenance," Donna heaved two heavy brown bags into the kitchen. "I'm going to cook you boys a decent meal for a change. Golly knows how much junk you put into your system."

"Hey," Alex edged closer and cautiously patted Cas' right arm with a small smile. She wasn't too certain of the aftermath from last night's chain of events. "How are you doing?"

"I'm quite fine," Cas appreciated the concern and patted the chair next to him. After she lowered herself onto it, he gestured at the puzzle. "I fixed it."

Alex sprang up and stared at the completed piece in awe. "Gosh! You actually did! We were totally struggling with this last night. We had what? Fifty pieces remaining."

"And he was on it all morning," Dean finally spoke up, marveling over Alex's amusement. "He's like that. Very meticulous and good at…fixing things."

"Says the man who took a turn around our house and fixed all the grumpy appliances," Donna poked her head out of the kitchen, wooden ladle in one hand. "Guess it's contagious. You two are the cutest ever."

"Donna," Jody scolded from inside the kitchen and Donna's head disappeared in a flash.

About an hour later, everyone seated themselves around the map table with a large pot of stewed chicken with steamed vegetables and hot biscuits sitting in the middle. Conversation was light, mostly dominated by Sam and Donna as they bickered about whether the Loch Ness monster was real. Alex on the other hand appeared nostalgic. Maybe she was savoring the family time they were sharing. And Jody was intently assessing Cas and Dean from across the table, hoping that she could at least decipher whether things were still rocky or not.

"So, I was hoping I could swing by and say hi to my friend who works at Saint Anne's Orphanage not too far from here," Jody said after a while. "Was wondering if you boys would join me since Alex and Donna would like to go shopping."

"Um, I actually have to buy some socks and shirts," Sam piped up from his side of the table.

Jody focused her gaze on the only other two men in the room. "Cas? Dean? You two game?"

"Of course, I'd love to go with you," Cas said earnestly as he carefully poked the fork into a cube of chicken and stared at it. "Dean can drive us." He almost choked on his mouthful of food when the older Winchester nudged his knee under the table in disapproval.

"Perfect, Donna can use our car."

The drive to the Orphanage was a chatty one between Cas and Jody. The latter discovered that Cas had a fascination in teas, and she was a tea lover herself. So naturally, they compared their tastes as Dean rolled his eyes and took control of the wheel. Then, after marveling over teas, they continued to talk about the Loch Ness monster. Then Donna mentioned that she discovered a litter of kittens under an abandoned car in the police station and for the rest of the drive, Cas asked many questions.

Dean always loved the fact that Cas grew so soft when he spoke about animals, especially cats, rabbits and guinea pigs. The color of his eyes would grow warmer. His voice would dip lower and just for a moment, Dean could actually see how Cas became fully human with the wide emotional range of one without any difficulty. And he loved it. He adored every single thing about Cas.

What he wasn't expecting was the magnitude of Cas' effect on other things as well.

From the moment they waltzed into the lobby of the orphanage, two little girls came over and tugged on the bottom of Cas' trench coat. They were around the ages of four and five and apparently, Cas was somewhat fascinating to them, in such an entirety that they wouldn't let go of his hands after taking one of each.

"We caught a frog this morning," one of them explained, her two blonde pigtails swinging wildly as she twirled around on the spot laughing. "And Cindy wanted us to keep it but Sister Mary said we can't because frogs can only take baths in the gutter."

"Did you also know that frogs have families?" Cas led them away into a small corner with books and toys and seemed to have forgotten that Dean or Jody were with him. "Just imagine how sad the frog would have been if you took him away from his home."

"Look at him," Jody smiled warmly and nudged Dean's left arm. She couldn't help but love Cas more than ever before. "He's so good with kids. Makes you wonder if he'll ever want kids of his own someday." Actually, she was fishing. Hoping that maybe things had settled between the two.

Dean had a softer look in his green eyes. In fact, his heart was melting from the sight of Cas tenderly braiding Cindy's undone plait and attaching a small butterfly clip to the bottom.

"He wants kids," Dean said after a while. "He also wanted a pet but with the lives we live, I'm not sure if we're going to be able to have either soon."

"Does he want these things with you?" Jody pried a little more, as they waited on her friend to come downstairs. "Are you two on good terms?"

"We used to talk about those things," Dean admitted to himself out loud. "Then, after everything that's happened, I don't know what's going on between us since last night. It feels like we haven't said a few things as yet. And I guess time will tell but for now, I'm just glad that he's back."

"I know you are," Jody patted Dean's back affectionately. "But don't wait too long to patch things up properly. And after all the bad things both of you have done, you're still here. You got to look at it that way. It's been ten years, Dean. There's nothing about you Cas doesn't know and vice versa."

Except she doesn't really know that we still don't see eye to eye on many things, Dean thought to himself. Cas had been back in less than twenty four hours and they had already been dipped in a fair share of rough patches since. Not that he was actually prickly about it. He was suddenly realizing that whatever they had between them, it wasn't perfect but it was real. And if Cas had walked out two times and come back, then there was something there that mattered. And maybe, that something was a someone and that someone was really him.

"You good there, buddy?" Dean finally wandered over to the play corner and tapped Cas on his right shoulder. Cindy was perched on his lap as Cas read Little Red Riding Hood to her. And Ava had wandered off to build a castle out of blocks.

"I'm fine. Are you?"

Dean's heart melted when their eyes met. He could see it. He really could. Walking into the library in the bunker or a little playroom and finding Cas sitting on a chair with their daughter on his lap. Reading to her. Or braiding her hair. And when these visions came naturally to him, his eyes filled with tears suddenly and he averted his gaze meekly and walked away. To the door he went, and then outside into the sunshine that cascaded upon a swing set and a beautiful garden of flowers. And choosing the swing, Dean sat upon it and tried to breathe.

"Come on, Winchester," he tried to discipline himself foolishly.

He took deep breaths. Trying to calm himself down because he was somehow losing his lungs. He was sinking into a pit of feelings that had resurfaced and this time, those feelings were stronger than ever before. Those feelings burned his chest and dizzied his head. Because he was suddenly thinking about a future; their future together. And even though they had talked lightly about it before, now more than ever,

Dean didn't just dream about having kids with Cas. He wanted to. And by using the word want instead of hoping, Dean realized that there was no other choice.

How could this have happened to him?

He had lost the man he loved more than anything else in his life. Just at a point in his life when he had been hit with a truth that shouldn't have angered him as much. He had almost lost his life too but then Cas saved him and then what? Dean had pushed every single hopeful thing deep into his heart and he had unearthed all the doubts because when he used to think about coming out as being in love with a man, or having others know that he was in love with a man, he had been terrified of the reactions. And now…

Dean didn't care about the reaction of other people or other hunters. He didn't care about their biased views or how they would label his feelings for an angel as blasphemy or sacrilegious. Instead, Dean realized that when he chose love above every other thing, the entire world seemed conquerable.

"Hello," Cas' gravelly voice greeted from behind.

Dean startled, turned around on the swing and admired the breathtaking view of sunlight beaming down on the most beautiful man he had ever seen in his life.

"Hi. Where's Cindy?" he asked, feeling the furnace in his chest flaring up some more.

"She went to find Ava so that they could come outside and chase butterflies," Cas said with a shrug. "They're hoping to find a Monarch today. Yesterday it was a moth. They hate moths."

"Oh," Dean turned to the front, gripped the rope on the swing and blinked hard to keep the tears at bay.

"You're not okay," Cas said softly, flattening the lush green grass with his boots as he came around the swing and stood in front of Dean's sitting form. "Are you still worried about Sam and Mala?"

The hunter sighed because worrying about such things felt trivial at the moment. "I feel like I'm battling a dragon with a bunch of heads right now."

"Then the ideal thing to do would be to attack at its weakest point. Maybe its heart, perhaps?"

Its heart. His heart. Why the hell was he being so juvenile? Why was he overthinking things?

"Why its heart?" he stupidly asked, eyes flicking up to meet blue ones and then returning to his boots. "Why not some other alternative?"

"Dean, are we still speaking about the dragon?" Cas frowned, tilting his head.

"Like maybe the dragon's strongest point is its heart, you know?" the hunter continued babbling. "And maybe all there is to this, is something far more. Something—"

"Slow down…"

"Cas, I can't do this anymore," Dean suddenly croaked, feeling a tear leak down his cheek and hating how vulnerable he was in the most ridiculous moment. "I'm not saying that it's hard. I'm trying to say that you coming back is great. Man, it's fantastic. But there are still a few things that I need to wrap my mind around. Like…I don't know. I'm still thinking."

At first, those blue eyes widened. And then, the angel's chest heaved. "Dean…"

"I keep feeling like we need to say something to each other but we're not saying it. And it's eating my heart raw, man," Dean choked out. He reached up and flicked the tears away briskly then stared off at the garden of sunflowers. "I don't know if we're good or if we're so broken right now, we can't fix this. And maybe I'm the only one who feels this way but how can you be so calm about this? How can you wake up early and fix puzzles and talk about Nessie and teas as if life is just normal again? When I literally had two hours sleep, I feel so tense and it's so freaking easy for me to cry."

For a while, Cas said nothing. The wind spoke a little though. It howled around the building painted in white with wooden walls and a daunting look. It whispered around a stone statue of Mary and baby Jesus swathed in her arms as she gazed down upon him lovingly. And the wind made the flowers dance happily, the leaves rustled and the bell on the gate tinkled a haunting tune.

"I'm not calm," Cas said in a broken voice. He reached out and took the rope on Dean's right. Their fingers were inches apart. "I'm tense and uncertain too. But I'm trying to do things that distract me. Puzzles. Teas. Nessie. Reading a story to a small child that understands love in its simplest form. What we have is so much more complicated but that's why it's so much more beautiful. And I think that we both need to forgive each other for the pain we've caused, whether intentional or not before we can move on."

Maybe that was it. Forgiving the wrongs to kill the pain and the fire inside of his chest. But then when Dean thought about how Cas left, he realized that the most hurtful part of it all was not being trusted enough to explain himself first. Cas never gave him that chance before leaving. Instead, he made assumptions and he walked out and he left these cracks in Dean's heart that were hard to fix because they kept bleeding and he couldn't understand how someone could love him and then actually believe that he would cheat.

He couldn't forget the many nights he spent sitting at the map table, staring at the door above the stairs and willing the sound of it opening. Or when he dragged himself to bed, he deliberately slept facing the door, hoping that Cas would come through it. Or that Cas would call him. Or text him. For weeks, he had developed a routine. And that routine had become obsessive and hurtful and when he realized that he couldn't bring Cas back, that he had no control over that, he changed the most important parts of himself.

He gave up drinking. He couldn't stomach burgers or fries anymore. He couldn't even drive Baby anywhere and Sam had to take care of her for a while. And now, he couldn't understand how broken he had to be to still think of a future with Cas when he had suffered through so much trauma because of Cas. And was it fair? He didn't know. He needed to talk to someone about it. He always wanted to and Sam had been too busy with Mala to even notice that his brother had been dying to talk.

Now, Cas was looking at him as if he was about to cry and all Dean could do was stand up and hug him. Because through it all, he couldn't stop loving him. He couldn't stop wanting him. He couldn't stop caring about Cas or admiring the way he was so kind and so loving. He was gentle. Cas hugged him back tightly, and they ended up clinging to each other as if they were terrified of losing each other.

"Dean don't give up on me," Cas said into the hunter's neck as their hearts couldn't calm down inside their heaving chests. "I'm not perfect. I've never done this before, and I've never loved someone before as much as I love you."

"Same," was all Dean could muster up as a response.

"We will get through this, I promise," Cas said softly, raking his fingers through the other man's soft tendrils. "We will fix this, and we will do that together."

It sounded so simple.

On their way back to the bunker, Jody sensed that everything was wrong between them. She sat in the backseat and felt the tension and despised it because they were so adorable. They were both trying their best to figure things out. In a cruel world like the one they lived in, it was no wonder that their doubts and pain never dulled. And she understood that Dean needed someone to talk to. He just wasn't sure how to ask. So when they finally reached back, Jody stepped up.

"Hey, wait a minute," she tugged on Dean's arm, watching Cas disappear into the bunker. The door didn't make a sound, proving that Donna's remedy worked like magic. And the lot of them weren't back as yet so naturally, it was the right time. "Talk to me," she urged. "What's happening between you two that's making your eyes leak like a faucet?"

Taking in a deep breath, Dean leaned against the hood of the car next to her and shrugged. "You know most of what happened. And then some."

"Yeah, but did you two talk since?"

"We did," Dean nodded, avoiding eye contact. "We talked a lot but…"

"But?" she cast a cautious look at him, and he shook his head.

"I dunno, I feel like something's still…missing. And I don't know what it is."

"Hmm," Jody folded her arms. "Well I don't think anything is missing. I think the problem is that you're still feeling like you're walking on eggshells and as soon as you try too hard, you're frightened that something will happen, and Cas will leave again."

When she said it, Dean knew for a fact that there was a lot of truth in that statement. Someone else viewing the situation from the outside would more than likely gather a clearer understanding of everything. Maybe the real problem was being too invested in a tragedy, getting your head stuck in the mud too deep, that you couldn't face reality anymore.

He swallowed his pride. "I don't know what to do."

"He's here, isn't he?" Jody pointed out as the wind orchestrated the lush green grass to a song of nature. "He came back and what you need to do is make sure that he stays for good."

"I can't do that," Dean frowned. "I can't make him stay if he doesn't want to."

"Dean answer this one, important question," Jody turned towards him and provided a serious countenance. "Are you in love with Castiel?"

When he nodded, she didn't press him for a vocal confirmation. But instead, Jody sighed. "And he obviously loves you. And you have every right to make him stay. Something similar happened between Donna and I. Heck, we almost called it quits because I was paranoid that she wouldn't hang on long enough and she was scared that I would give up. So, what did I do? I realized that I wanted a future with her so I sucked it up and did the one thing that would cement the whole deal."

"You proposed to her," Dean stated in a soft tone, staring at the bunker and feeling his heart flop around his chest at the thought of doing the same.

"Sure did," Jody said proudly. "Now, she's not going anywhere. But I'm not saying that you should jump into it because it's the only choice you have. Course you need to talk a lot more and try to lighten things between you two. And maybe it could be a dinner date, doing the things you two used to love doing together. Maybe it's sex. Who knows?" she shrugged and nudged his shoulder.

"Maybe it's taking a long drive and doing something wild like skinny dipping. Whatever it is, you find it and you try it with him because he loves you, Dean. Castiel is so in love with you, he watched a stranger kiss you, he got his heart broken, and he still came back. At the time he didn't know what was happening, but it must have killed him. But guess what? He's here because he can't live without you. And you can't live without him. And if that ain't true love, then I don't know what is. If Donna had walked in on me kissing another man, I'd still be missing." Jody laughed and so did Dean. She ruffled his hair like a mother would to a son and smiled.

"Thanks," Dean said afterwards, feeling hopeful again. And because he wasn't always skilled in exhibiting the softest emotions to anyone really, he shrugged. "For…everything."

"Any time," she squeezed his arm. "You boys are like my sons. I'd do anything to help you through your hard times. Also, I would like if we can both have weddings that contribute to changing this screwed up world." Jody beamed at his constipated look. "Hey, lighten up. You'll know when the time is right. And Sam, Donna, Claire, Alex, me…we'll be there for ya. Whenever you need us, okay?"

After he nodded, neck flushed a bright red, Jody pulled him into her arms, and they headed towards the bunker. Satisfied he was somewhat. Satisfied and convinced that he always had someone there who cared. And maybe she wasn't exactly a full replacement for his mother's role. But she was enough. And he took her advice.

Two days later, and after he and Cas pretty much said little to each other apart from shy smiles and worried, stolen glances, Dean sucked it up and did the one thing he hoped would help. Or at least, begin the process of patching things up between them. After all, he promised before that he would try harder to prove to Cas that what they were to each other meant so much more to him. So, after careful consideration and little to no help from his brother since Mala had returned from New York, Dean wandered into the library and found Cas perusing a book of poetry.

"Hey." For a moment when their eyes met, like always, they initiated a gaze that tried to search for answers.

And Cas, well, he felt like everything between them was crumbling. "Hi," he simply said, his heart doing a summersault. Those blue eyes travelled from the other man's slightly damp hair, to his denim jacket, black tank and faded blue jeans, then the keys in his right hand. "Are you going out?"

Dean sucked in as much air as he could and bit his lips. He nodded, swallowed then went for it. "I was wondering if you…would…like to maybe go for a drive with me?" He had rehearsed this so many times before seeking out Cas. But he hadn't factored in the thumping of his heart.

"You mean to the grocery store?" Cas had closed his book, and his eyes were alighted. "I believe we are running low on bread, peanut butter and jelly…"

"I wonder who ate them all," Dean smiled, then he nervously laughed. "But they're the best. I mean…the sandwiches. That you make."

"There's nothing special about them," Cas said simply with a shrug. "Sam uses the same process…"

"Yeah, but you kind of make them different for me. I guess you put a little love in there too?" Dean felt his neck grow warmer and he hated himself for being so ridiculously corny.

Cas, however, was smiling as his cheeks colored too. "I try to add a lot of love in everything I do for you," he said in his gravelly voice that immediately weakened Dean's knees. "And you're blushing."

"So are you," the hunter pointed out as he bit his smile. "Um, so about the drive…are you coming with me?"

"Are you asking me out on a date, Dean?" Cas was holding his breath, fingers gripping the book in his hands tightly.

Those green eyes widened and then, Dean blinked. He began to nod slowly. "I guess I am."

Fifteen minutes later found the two of them inside the Chevy Impala, driving down the highway on a beautiful Sunday morning. Windows down, the wind licking their faces and then just because he was feeling good about himself, Dean pawed around in the car until he discovered the right kind of music. And as he pushed Cas' Mixtape into the deck, the angel smiled warmly, shook his head and diverted his eyes onto the rolling grasslands outside his window.

"This feels good, huh?" he asked softly when Ariana Grande's 'Why Try' began. "Like old times. You know, back when you, me, Sam used to be on the road on a hunt. Course, you used to be in the backseat, but it was good."

"I like this better," Cas said, resting his arm on the window. He felt as if Dean was trying so hard to tell him something, but he wasn't sure what it was.

"Well, there's nothing better than this."

Cas' chest heaved and he tried to relax, he really did. But the there was an elephant on his chest and he began to slowly slip into memories of being trapped. Of being in Heaven, watching everything fall apart with his fellow comrade and then choosing to love above everything else. Then, now that he had chosen love, he felt so raw inside, almost like he had made the most difficult choice and because of that, he was still changing.

"Did you miss me, Cas?" Dean asked afterwards, gripping the steering wheel and wishing that his lungs wouldn't quit on him.

"Why would you ask me a question that has such an obvious answer?"

Dean's heart startled a little. "Because maybe I need to hear it from you?" he found that his voice was rustier.

Cas sighed. "Yes, Dean," he said in a flat tone. "I missed you. So much…that I had no choice but to come back to you. Is that what you would like to hear?"

"I get that. I really do." Dean glanced at the other man and tried at least to decipher what was happening between them. "Wait, was that sarcasm?"

Reaching for the music player, Cas turned it off and settled back into his seat. Folding his arms, he felt so wound up and why? Because this wasn't the way love was supposed to feel. Even though he was inexperienced, he had felt better before. He had felt softer and loved and so certain of Dean and now…it was almost as if the other man was trying too hard to make him feel absolutely guilty for leaving.

"Talk to me," Dean tried, feeling his throat painfully twist into a knot.

"No, you go first since you seem to have a problem with me."

"I don't have a problem with you," now Dean was terrified, and somewhat hurt. "This is not about you alone. This is about so much more. You know that. And right now, I feel stupid because of the way I am handling this. Not like an adult. But I feel like a freaking teenager that doesn't have his shit together and it scares me. I'm always so sure of what to do. Of what to say. And when it comes to us, I fuck up so easily without even trying."

"Dean, maybe the problem is that you don't trust me anymore," Cas' voice was unsteady. "You hate that I didn't give you a chance to explain yourself before I walked away and you're afraid that I'll leave you again."

He had hit the hammer on the nail so precisely, at first, Dean couldn't say a thing.

"Wherever you're taking us, we will talk further. But for now," Cas reached up and pinched the corners of his eyes squeezed shut, "focus on the road and not me."

But getting them to the place he had in mind was so damn hard, that for the next five minutes, Dean was literally on the verge of either crying out in pain or shedding a whole lot of tears. And maybe it wasn't a good thing. Maybe it wasn't okay to feel like this when you were in love with someone and wanted to be in a relationship with them. But the truth is, he couldn't let Cas go and he wasn't even going to think of that as an option. Because without Cas, his life was a nightmare and he literally died every second without him.

When the car nosed its way into a small grassy lane that led through a beautiful line of trees, the smell of pine greeted them warmly. And after pulling up near a lake that's surface was glassy, amazing and peaceful, Dean killed the engine and with a heavy heart, he pushed his door open.

So, maybe loving another man wasn't ever going to be easy. But he wasn't easy as well. Dean realized that for most of his life, every single thing about him was complicated to a point where he never could live a normal life. So, why was he expecting his love life to be easy? Why was he expecting something from Cas that was softer and peaceful when both of them had literally been dragged through hell and back?

After he decidedly made the first move by spreading the navy-blue blanket by the edge of the lake, Dean glanced back at the car. Cas was retrieving the basket of sandwiches and lemonade and under his arm was the book he had been reading earlier. As he closed the distance between them, their eyes met and inside Dean's chest, he felt his heart sigh, not only because of how prickly they were at the moment, but also because he wanted to prove a few things to Cas. Like the fact that he trusted him, but he was still afraid that he'd leave.

When both of them were finally positioned on the blanket; Cas with his feet folded and Dean stretched out, half of his torso propped up on his left elbow, the silence wasn't so golden. Instead, Dean realized that maybe all the things he told Donna about Cas should be brought out in the open between them. He kept searching for these little things that would justify that they were still real and yet, Dean couldn't at least tell the truth. So, now, he decided to and he didn't care that the cracks in his heart hurt a lot. Or that he couldn't breathe.

After he told Cas about his habit of staring at doors after the angel had left, hoping that he'd walk in again, something softened in those blue eyes. He told him about hating the groaning of the bunker's door. Of lamenting to Sam that they needed to fix it because truthfully, the sound killed him every time as he recalled the times when Cas left.

Dean told Cas about using his teddy bear mug in the mornings to drink tea. Of borrowing his soft blue blanket with the bumblebees and the white rabbits and sleeping inside like a burrito. And the nights when he couldn't sleep, how he slept in Cas' bed, and he pretended that the pillow was the angel. And when he stopped after his voice broke a little, Dean gave up from feeling emotionally drained and he stretched out on the blanket.

"When you were reading to that little girl in the orphanage, I kind of got lost in this dream of me walking into the library," Dean confessed, "and finding you sitting there with…our daughter…on your lap. Reading to her." Those green eyes latched onto the floating clouds across the brightest blue sky. "Call me crazy, Cas, but it's not that I don't trust you. I don't think that I trust myself because…I keep wanting to share all these things with you. I keep wanting a future that seems so real to me and then I'm so scared that you'll leave again because I don't feel like I deserve any of it."

He had talked for such a long time without Cas saying anything at all, that after a while, Dean felt deprived of a two-way conversation. It was almost as if he was talking to a ghost that was gazing at him and possibly judging him for all the things he had confessed.

Cas, however, slowly inched his hand closer to Dean's folded fingers and when they touched, something inside of his chest lit up. "You've just said everything that I wanted to hear," Cas admitted softly. "And Dean?"

The hunter's eyes gazed into blue ones. "Yeah?"

Cas smiled. "You deserve to be loved in the most beautiful way there is."

Dean smiled back and he collected the angel's fingers between his. "You too, Cas."

"I was wrong to leave without giving you a chance to explain yourself. I cannot apologize enough for that. But if you keep holding that against me, then what we can have together…will never be easy."

"That's true," Dean admitted, remembering Jody's words of advice. "You came back. That's all that should matter."

"And I might sound terrible by confessing this," Cas' voice was unsteady suddenly, "but because we were apart for so many weeks, I longed for you in so many ways, Dean. I might be selfish but when I came back that night, all I wanted was everything physical and emotional and when you told me that you didn't want me…"

"Cas, come on," Dean pleaded with his eyes, as he entwined their fingers and brought the angel's hand to his lips. "I told you that I wanted the same thing. Like more than anything else. Remember what I did to you in the kitchen, dammit? I couldn't stop myself."

"But I could have slept with you in your bed without us touching," Cas offered a soft look. "Or on the floor because I wanted to be near to you after spending so much time being so far away. Anyway, we are here now."

"Yeah, we are." Dean rose up lazily, reached for the basket and poured them two glasses of lemonade. "You've got to admit that I sucked at my first blowjob, right?" he wanted to lighten the mood a little more and succeeded when Cas chuckled. "Like, no pun intended. But it was new to me, and I was like…terrified."

"You did an amazing job," Cas reached out and ruffled the other man's hair. He sipped on his lemonade and felt somewhat lighter than before. "Do you remember the pizza man and the babysitter?"

"How could I forget?" Dean gave into laughing loudly. "Man, you were something back then. You were always so…clueless at times and it was so adorable that I couldn't help myself from falling in love with you. Like the time when I took you out to get laid and you freaked out that poor girl until we got thrown out."

"I just told her the truth," Cas smiled around the rim of his red cup. "It's not my fault that she refused to accept what her father had done. Do you want to know the truth though, Dean?"

The hunter raised his eyebrows and smiled. "Hit me with it."

Shyly, Cas lowered his blue eyes and sighed. "That night, the reason why I was so tense and against the idea of frequenting such a modest brothel is because…well I didn't want to get laid by anyone else…. but you. And—"

"You could have told me," Dean's eyes widened after realizing how he had screwed up. "I mean, sure I would have been totally shocked by the request but…I might not have…turned you down."

"Oh right," Cas rolled his eyes. "Like you were so ready to admit that you had feelings for me from the moment I walked into that barn ten years ago. It took you all this time to come to terms with what any of it meant. I don't think you were even aware of—"

"I was aware," Dean stared at Cas as he felt his heart flapping around like a fish out of water. "I had the feelings and the needs. Dammit, Cas, I wanted you in ways that made me turn against myself. But I couldn't label it because well…as you know, when I was a kid, my father kind of made sure that I didn't give in to being less of a man as he called it. And when those feelings for you developed inside of me, I turned against them."

"Supposed I had kissed you that night," Cas wondered out loud. "Would you have kissed me back?"

"Well I'd like to think that I would have pushed you away," Dean thoughtfully considered a flock of birds flying overhead. "Afterwards, things would have been awkward. But I would have come around. Eventually."

"Give or take five or six years after?" Cas smiled humorously.

"I'm a complicated man," Dean shrugged and toed off his boots.

He stretched out on the blanket again and when the bottom of his black tank bunched up around his waist exposing some skin, Cas stopped breathing. Before he could gather enough restraint though, Cas' hand wandered closer and then his fingers were lightly caressing the soft, skin that felt so warm to the touch. And so…appealing, more appealing when Dean's chest heaved from the intimate gesture, strengthened when their eyes connected and all he could present was a need to be touched so much more.

Cas, turned sideways and propped up on his left elbow, dared to seek out what he had been missing for so long by driving his hand upwards and inside Dean's tank. And he could feel how breathless the other man was, even as Cas searched for Dean's heartbeat and discovered that what he wanted most in that moment was to kiss him. He wanted to. And so he did, leaning down slowly and pressing their lips together in the softest kiss possible. And when they connected in such a subtle way, it was almost too blissful.

"If you want more, follow me," Dean suddenly said, diving out from under the kiss and springing up gleefully. He jerked his chin at the blue water, remembering when his father brought him and Sam there a few times to swim.

Cas groaned when he realized what the invitation entailed. "You are quite aware of how tempting the request is, that I cannot turn you down." He watched Dean shrug off his denim jacket, then his black tank and Cas choked on air when the hunter proceeded to peel off his blue jeans, leaving little more to imagine.

"Come and get me," Dean smiled widely, and after feeling like his chest was on fire with so much excitement, he dove into the water. After resurfacing two seconds after, those green eyes located Cas still sitting on the blanket. "Stop being like that," Dean tried, laughing.

"I can't swim."

"It's not deep. It's shallow where I am. Cas, come on," Dean pouted.

"Is it cold?" the angel asked, folding his arms protectively.

"Nope," Dean lowered himself into the water until his eyes were visible. He blinked slowly at Cas.

"Okay, but if the water is cold, I'll make you pay." Slowly, Cas shrugged off his trench coat.

"Oh I can't wait," Dean teased, watching intently as the other man started unbuttoning his black, long sleeved shirt and then after resting it neatly on the blanket, he sighed.

"Avert your eyes," Cas bit in a smile.

"You do remember that I've seen…all of you already?" Dean raised his eyebrows and chuckled, bobbing up and down in the water. "But sure, I'll turn my back."

For a while, there was no sound but the chirping of birds and the rustle of the leaves in the trees. Then there were two soft plops as Cas evidently entered the lake and holding his breath, Dean felt his heart beating wildly as he waited. And waited, and waited and then he felt those familiar hands snaking around his waist, Dean turned around. But then, he probably shouldn't have done an about turn so fast because in a flash, he realized that there was Cas. And their lips were an inch apart and everything else was too.

"In the famous words of Taylor Swift," Cas breath hitched a little and the water splashing around his shoulders, "are you ready for it?"

"Oh hell yeah," Dean smiled widely and moving in, he crushed their lips together, knocking the air out of both of their lungs.


	29. Contented

Sam was sweating and nervous and surrounded by a group of Indian women dressed in very colorful saris.

The smell of spices consumed the room, and peas. Lots of peas were being grinded and mango fried in round bottom pots. And although he hadn't eaten since that morning, it was half past three in the afternoon and Sam was growing hungry by the minute. So hungry, that he literally wanted to eat the shredded mango from Mala's auntie's metal basin.

His girlfriend, as he had chosen to label her for two weeks now, was wearing a very beautiful dark green sari trimmed in gold. Her large gold hoop earrings glinted under the fluorescent lights. And on any other occasion, Mala would have been cladded in a pair of black jeans and a graphic t-shirt. But since they were preparing for her sister's wedding, she had respected the use of her traditional wear.

"Sam, you have one brother", Mala's mother had taken a seat next to him immediately after she had come into the room. Her face was round and jolly and she smelled like baby powder.

He nodded and cleared his throat. "Yeah, his name's Dean."

"And he's married?"

Her face radiated with so much warmth and love and innocence, he wanted to lie but after all, telling one little white lie led to many others. And Mala was watching him intently.

"No, he isn't actually," Sam said, feeling terribly out of place and too tall.

"He has a girlfriend then," Mala's mother was a very inquisitive woman.

"Mom," Mala sighed, "what's with the questions? Are you done now?"

"I was only asking because Sita is long overdue to find a suitable man. And if Sam is this intelligent and handsome and sweet, then his brother would be very much more interesting." When she provided that speech, everyone else nodded.

Mala shook her head. "Sita isn't Dean's type."

"How do you know that?" her mother frowned deeply as she peeled garlic in an orange bowl. "Sita is well suited for any man."

"Dean is…uh," Sam interrupted Mala before she could jump into the truth because she would have, "…in a relationship. With someone. Very nice. It's long term."

"And how long have they been together?" one of the aunties asked.

Sam smiled a little. "Ten years." Mala actually smiled back at him because he had indulged her with a bit of the past.

And at that precise moment when the smell of dhal and curry filled the house, Dean's vision was obscured by a pair of wide blue eyes. His mind was spinning out of control. His lungs were on fire.

Breathless. He had literally been kissed until he couldn't breathe anymore. And now Cas was chewing on his freaking neck like a freaking wild kitten whilst Dean held onto his hardened cock and jerked him slowly underwater. And it was amazing how expansive was Cas' sexual appetite.

Hell, if he was an angel and had the willpower to drive Dean crazy by wrapping his thighs around the hunter's waist and grinding their bodies together…Dean had no idea what would happen to him when Cas took full control in bed. When Cas dominated and fucked him all the way. And maybe it was true, that absence made the heart grow fonder.

But Dean was so certain that it wasn't just their hearts that had grown fonder…it was also their sex drive. And he wasn't exactly innocent in all of the aggressive action going down in the lake. Dean was purposeful in getting his hand on that glorious part of Cas' body from the moment he turned around and found that the other man's lips were inches apart from his. So that when his fingers did eventually wrap around that thick, beautiful length that was full and hard, Dean had become thirsty. For everything.

"Take me," Cas breathed into Dean's neck, his breath on fire. "Please. I want to feel you inside of me."

His heart beat wildly in his chest from that request but nevertheless, Dean was hesitant. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

The way Cas held onto him like the world was about to end or maybe like he wanted so much more proved to the hunter that the pace they had always been going at was okay. It was okay to touch and jerk each other off but there was always that breaking point. Of knowing that there was something else. Something that was raw and beautiful and it was like crossing the edge and jumping, arms flailing.

"Right here?" he asked because he wanted to be certain. "In the lake?"

"Dean!" Cas captured the other man's face between his hands and pleaded with those blue eyes. He appeared so weak in that moment, so vulnerable, that the hunter felt so mesmerized. "We need to do this. I need you."

But was he sure? Like really, was Cas really in the right mindset? Was he thinking this through? So many questions were racing through Dean's mind, he hadn't enough time to register that Cas had slipped out of his grasp and was now backing into his space as the water splashed around them in small waves. And oh fucking hell, he was aching for it. For that full release as he had been longing for in a long damn time.

Dean wanted to be so gentle though. Because it was always in his nature to never force himself upon someone even though they begged and pleaded. So maybe that's why he walked them a little closer to the shore twisted with roots. The water pooled around their waists and hugging Cas from behind, he formed that protective X again like a shield. He buried his face into the crook of the angel's left shoulder and sucked on his soft skin. And Cas…well he allowed the slowed pace to consume him until his breathing settled down to a measured rhythm comprising of them slowly bobbing in the water as the sand beneath them settled under their knees.

"Do you hear that?" Dean finally asked and he sucked lightly on the other man's earlobe.

Cas could feel all of the hunter behind him. "My heart screaming?"

"Also the silence. Listen to it—"

"Dean, what are you—"

"Just listen to it, okay?" the hunter asked softly, breathing into Cas' neck and hugging him from behind. "Relax. Feel me and breathe."

For a while, maybe a full minute and a half, they both tried to calm down until the sound of the leaves rustling as the wind played with them was like music. The soft lapping of the waves on the shore was rhythmic and knowing that no one would intrude because they were really in a secluded spot, far away from the highway that was never traversed, both of them drowned in the moment. Until Dean realized that the water around them had settled.

"I like when you hold me like this," Cas said in his low, gravelly voice. "Like if I'm the only precious thing in the world you love."

"You are the only precious thing in the world I love though," Dean smiled into the other man's wet hair just behind his left ear. "And do you know what else you are to me?"

"The king of your heart?" Cas would never forget.

Dean breathed into the angel's neck and smiled. "That too, darling."

When he said it, just that one word, a simple pet name really, Cas melted so much like butter in the hunter's arms, it was beautiful. He softened and relaxed on his knees and when Dean turned Cas' mouth to met him in a deep kiss, he kissed him until a low moan was unearthed. And then, slowly and gently whilst they kissed hungrily, Dean guided himself into Cas for the first time, something he had only dreamt of and longed for so many times before.

Now, when he finally felt how blissful it was to form that intimate connection with his best friend, the one man who he loved more than anything in the world, Dean's eyes leaked hot tears. And Cas…

Cas opened up for him because his mind was in a serene place, his heart had relaxed and was sighing from so much love. His body was melting and he really didn't feel any much discomfort. Not really. Not when Dean held him like a precious jewel and kissed him so deep and slow and hungrily like he wanted to taste him in more than a physical way. And when Dean was fully inside of him, the two of them just savored the moment that was the most magical to them.

It was beautiful and it was real.

"I love you," Dean was slowly becoming lost because Cas' grip on his cock was so deliciously tight and he had never ever experienced something so powerful in his lifetime.

The angel rubbed their noses together, gripping the hunter's right arm with his and planting his other hand firmly on Dean's ass with the other. "I love you too."

"Can you feel me?" Dean asked weakly, moving an inch and immediately receiving his answer when Cas' cock twitched between his hands. It was so intimate for him, and he had no idea how in the world he hadn't done it before.

The angel's chest heaved. "I do."

"How do I feel?" those green eyes fluttered close as Dean began to thrust slowly, inch by inch as he hugged the other man. And the water around them formed into baby waves that flattened out eventually.

"Hot and…" Cas' breath caught in his throat and his knees grew weaker, "…hard. But you feel…amazing. Dean…" he stopped breathing all together when the hunter kept moving inside of him, picking up the pace and jerking him off the same time to match the rhythm. And all he could do was lean his head back onto Dean's right shoulder, and gaze up at the blue sky.

Until he couldn't control the sounds he began to make. The throaty moans and the way his body quivered and convulsed and when both of them began to cry out from the building up of a hot and heavy crescendo, Dean found Cas' parted lips and he kissed him deeply and hungrily again. This time though, they both tried to muffle their hoarse cries from the pleasure rippling through their veins and dizzying their heads. The moment of complete bliss and the feeling of drowning in each other's bodies, pure and raw and sensational.

Cas accommodated all of him, so snugly and so beautifully, it was a moment that Dean would never ever get over. A moment where he could feel every single breath the other man took from holding Cas so tight in his arms. From feeling how his ass tightened and squeezed Dean's cock that was so painfully hard, he was aching for that release. And when he was about to let go, he pulled their lips apart and pressed his trembling ones to the shell of the other man's left ear.

"Cas," he breathed hot and heavy, still thrusting fast and feeling like his entire body was on fire, "let go for me. Darling…" And when Dean felt Cas tighten around his cock, and the angel stiffened in his arms, he came hard inside the other man.

Over and over again, Dean released himself as his hips jerked and his head spun and Cas' cries matched his throaty ones. And yet, Dean still held onto him. He held him and he wouldn't let go and because they had been so wound up for so long, their bodies released and contributed to a blissful moment that lasted for a while. Until there was nothing else but for Cas to weakly turn into Dean's arms and he buried his face into the other man's neck and both of them just floated there.

By the time they were back in the car, in their dry clothes without their boxers though, the silence between them was peaceful. It contained so much love. Literally every second spent inside the car, gazing out at the glassy surface of the lake, they both realized that they had done something that had slowly fixed their pieces back together. And it wasn't just the sex. No. It was so much more for Cas.

"Thank you," he said croaked, with their fingers entwined on the seat.

Dean's eyes fluttered close and he felt…light. He felt complete. "You don't have to, you know."

"I mean…for being so gentle with me," Cas said hoarsely, "you held me until I was calm and then you fucked my voice away."

Dean had to laugh. Baby's engine hummed low. The air was serene. "Man, you're so poetic."

"I'm serious. My throat aches more than my ass. Is that normal?" Cas turned a pair of innocent blue eyes on the hunter. And what he discovered, was a man who was on the verge of biting in a bout of heavy laughter. "Dean. It's not funny!"

"It is!" Dean doubled over onto the steering wheel and laughed until his eyes leaked tears. And then after he cast a look at Cas, the other man chuckled, shaking his head.

"You are such an adorable idiot, Dean Winchester," Cas croaked. "Now, I'll be dreaming about this lake forever."

Suddenly, Dean's eyes lit up and snatching the pocket knife from the glove compartment, he stared at the angel. "Hey, I've got an idea."

"I hate when you get like this," Cas groaned when the other man tugged at his left arm. "You usually get that look in your eyes when you're about to do something really crazy. Dean, what—"

He watched the hunter spring out of the car and jogged to the tree where they had spread the blanket under. It was a large maple tree with a wide trunk. And from under it, Dean beckoned frantically for Cas to join him.

By the time he did join the other man though, his beautiful lover, he discovered that Dean had used the pocket knife to etch his initials into the bark of tree. Then, holding out the knife in Cas' direction, a wide grin spread across the hunter's face. Immediately, Cas caught on and taking the knife, and shaking his head whilst smiling, he carefully carved out a C. Then, when his eyes focused on those incredibly intense green windows to a beautiful soul, Cas continued with a W.

Dean, at first, was so amazed by the decision the other man had taken to use his last name, that he stared back into blue eyes. "Cas," he simply said, losing his breath.

"Have you ever realized that the first letters of our names fall right next to each other on the alphabet? C and D? Coincidental?"

But Dean, after being so mesmerized by everything, even such a small fact, purposely crushed their lips together in a kiss that made Cas squeak. He wound his hand around the angel's waist, pressed Cas into the tree and kissed him deep, so deep that their toes curled in their boots. And under the rustle of the maple tree's leaves, they shared yet another romantic moment that would forever be remembered by them.

That night in the bunker, when the two of them were seated at the map table with a bowl of Lays and dip between them, Dean decided that he would pick up on a hobby of theirs that had been very significant. After all, it was the little things that mattered, and as he parted a copy of Lang Leav's 'Lullabies', he eyed Cas secretly. He stole glances at him, recalling how the copy of the book used to be his companion at nights. Nights when he was peeled into his innermost layer from emotions and was trying to stay afloat.

Sam hadn't shown his face as yet, obviously spending a lot of time with Mala so they had the kind of privacy that was needed. And now, both of them savored it. They loved it. Sitting with each other and merely treasuring the actuality of being together after a long time.

"Three Questions," Dean began and then he cleared his throat when Cas lifted his eyes.

"_What was it like to love him?_ Asked Gratitude.

It was like being exhumed, I answered.

And brought to life in a flash of brilliance.

_What was it like to be loved in return?_ Asked Joy.

It was like being seen after a perpetual darkness, I replied.

To be heard after a lifetime of silence.

_What was it like to lose him?_ Asked Sorrow.

There was a long pause before I responded:

It was like hearing every good-bye ever said to me –

Said all at once."

The silence that came afterwards was consumed with the two of them merely gazing at each other. Then, Cas bit his lips and slowly nodded. He was so impressed that Dean had been reading on his own, and that a poem had resonated with him, that his heart sighed.

"I love you without knowing how", Cas began slowly in that mesmerizing gravelly tone.

"or when,

or from where.

I love you straightforwardly,

without complexities or pride;

so I love you because I know no other way than this:

where I does not exist, nor you,

so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,

so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep."

And when Cas finished reciting the few lines that always stuck in his heart, a soft tear slipped down his cheek.

"Pablo Neruda," Dean said softly, "how could I forget that one. You were reading it a few days after you came back from Purgatory. On my bed. In the motel. And when I asked you where you got that stupid book from," Dean's voice cracked when he noted that Cas blinked away his tears, "you told me that there was nothing stupid about loving someone. And I had no idea that maybe that someone…was me. How could I have been so stupid?"

Nodding slowly, with his eyes resting on his arms folded on the table, Cas sniffed.

"We could have been together for a long time now," Dean rested the book on the table and really wanted to hold Cas. He wanted to wrap his arms around him and absorb all of his pain. "But anyway, enough sad talk, huh? I wanted to tell you something for a long time now, and I never really found the right time to do it. But I guess it will make you feel loads better. So here goes…"

Cas blinked slowly and waited.

"Remember when you kissed Meg years ago?" Dean's eyes widened a little as he leaned onto the table. When Cas nodded, he shrugged. "Well, some time afterwards, I kind of pulled her in a corner and told her that if she ever did it again, I'd rip her head off and bury it in a tank of holy water," when he noticed the smile widening on the other man's face, Dean slapped his fist down on the table. "And that's why she kept referring to you as my boyfriend afterwards."

"You…" Cas was stunned, "threatened Meg…because I kissed her."

"I did. And I didn't even realize how gay I sounded until afterwards when I was like wait…maybe I sounded totally jealous."

"You were jealous, weren't you?" Cas was fishing,

Dean shrugged, dipped a potato chip into the bowl of salsa and he pushed the entire thing into his mouth. Chewing, the hunter smiled widely.

"You've changed, Dean," Cas said after a while had passed by and they resumed their habitual process of flipping pages of their books at intervals.

The hunter's eyes flicked up and considered the other man briefly before returning to another piece of beautiful poetry. "Is that something good?"

"It is," Cas inhaled deeply and after resting the book upon the table, he leaned forward and gave all his attention to Dean. "You seem so…in control of yourself since I've come back. You've always been in tune with your feelings but now, you're not hesitant in speaking about how you feel. If something is bothering you, you come to me and you talk to me about what it is. And when we went one step further in the lake…"

Green eyes widened a bit from the memory and Dean shifted uncomfortably on his chair. He stared at the book in his lap, willing his body to calm down and to not become aroused from the memories of feeling himself inside of Cas. And knowing now with certainty that it was a contagious feeling. And if he had his way, he would have done it again. And again. Because he wanted to.

"When you asked me how you felt inside of me…" Cas' facial expression was stolid. Although he was evidently as sensitive as the other man in that moment. "I found those lines to be rather…stimulating and sexy and something that colored you as having a very assertive side. We were intimate in bed before…"

"To an extent but never like that," Dean avoided eye contact. Words. He tried to focus on one line of the poem but nothing was sticking to his brain.

"And you've never really been so dominant," Cas swallowed hard, his gaze never leaving the hunter's handsome face. "I'd love to see that side of you as many times as I can—"

"Cas," Dean groaned, slapping the book onto the table. His head lolled to the side. "Come on, man. When you talk like that, it does things to me."

"Like what?" Cas was smirking, so he was clearly aware of the effect his line of conversation had on the other man.

Dean on the other hand, stared back in awe. "Don't make me show you. Cause I can drop my pants and show you exactly what the hell you're doing to me –"

"There's the dominant side," Cas tilted his head and smiled innocently. Arms folded on the table still, he blinked slowly. "Would you really do that though?"

"What?" green eyes widened. "Unzip my pants and fuck you on this table right here?" Slapping a hand onto the surface, Dean inclined his head and winked. "Don't tempt me. But then Sam might walk in and it could be very traumatic for him. Especially if he's bringing Mala."

Impressed by the unfolding of the other man's personality into his old self, Cas merely sat back, arms folded. And he bit his lips.

It was a gesture that didn't quite go unnoticed by Dean, whose eyes flicked to the angel's kissable mouth and suddenly, he was hard in his pants. Suddenly, he realized that there was this aggressive streak that originated from a fire burning within him to literally crawl across the map table. To grab Cas' beautiful face containing his blue, ocean eyes and to crush their lips together.

And Cas…was guiltily reading Dean's mind without even trying. He sat there, sinking into the pit of lust between them and with every ounce of strength he could muster, he remained as still as ever. Composed. Teasing Dean with the sparkle in his eyes and willing him, no, daring him to come over. To lunge like a hungry tiger. To claim what was rightfully his, because after all, every part of Cas belonged to the hunter. And he constantly felt like prey since he had come back. The kind of prey that lurked in the shadows, wildly fascinated by the predator who was searching for his weakest point. And when the opportunity arose, he presented himself to be taken advantage of.

Now though, what remained between them was a space that thickened with passion and so much passing between them in a gaze that deepened. It reached a point where Dean couldn't breathe, and his knees weakened. His chest burned with fire and his mind was spiraling out of control, chasing a fleeting dream of what could happen if he just made that one move.

"I don't we will ever grow weary of each other, Dean," Cas croaked, savoring the beating of his heart and fighting to breathe too. "I don't think…that I will ever stop desiring you in every possible way there is to want you."

"Same," Dean's voice was huskier. "I'd have you for breakfast, lunch and dinner."

Cas swallowed a lump the size of a tennis ball. "And when we grow older? When you age and I don't? Have you thought about how that would work?"

"Do you want me to remind you what goes where?"

Cas stared back at the hunter and was so astonished by how bold his words had become, it was refreshing and at the same time, exhilarating.

"When I get older, I can guarantee you, that you'll keep on being pleased with the service, you wouldn't ever want a refund—"

"Dean," Cas' voice trembled and he breathed through his lips, chest heaving. "Please. If you keep talking to me like that, then you'll have to use that beautiful mouth on me and then we might not get to—"

"Heads up!" Sam suddenly bellowed from above on the landing. "If you're naked, I'm giving you a minute to get dressed and look decent because we have company!"

Rolling his eyes and shaking his head, Dean reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose. "He did it again. He always fucking does it. How? Dammit! Just when we're in the middle of something, he comes barging in like a truck with no concern whatsoever. I hate you, Sam!"

"Hate you too?" Sam edged down the steps with a sheepish Mala in tow. She was clutching a large paper bag obviously containing food.

For the first time, Cas was granted the opportunity to meet the bewitcher of the older Winchester's heart. A beautiful, slender dark-haired Indian girl in her early thirties that had a smile which was so contagious, Cas couldn't decipher any area of disapproval. Especially in relation to her cultural wear; a bright green sari that was trimmed in gold.

"So, this is Dean's boyfriend," Mala eyed Cas from his blue eyes all the way down to his brown shoes. "I can see why he couldn't get over you easily. You're so damn hot, you make peppers look shameful."

When he offered up himself to be hugged warmly, Dean threw him the stink eye and Cas frowned. There was literally nothing wrong with the woman who squished him inside an embrace that felt genuine. So why was Dean so paranoid? Why had he been so investigative and worrisome when Mala presented nothing but a sweet demeanor to match her pretty face?

"Um, so Mala brought over some food for you two," Sam tried, noticing how his brother appeared distant.

"I already ate," Dean turned away and headed towards the kitchen, scratching the back of his neck. "But thanks."

"No, he hasn't," Cas offered Mala a sympathetic look after she seemed wounded by the older Winchester's disapproval. "Thank you. You're so thoughtful," and he collected the paper bag. "I'll be right back." And leaving the War Room, he made his way into the kitchen.

Dean was collecting two beers from the red ice cooler resting on the counter top. He seemed tense all of a sudden. And when Cas' footsteps padded into the room, those green eyes met blue ones.

"You could try."

"I did," Dean offered a constipated look, spreading out his arms. "I said thanks, didn't I?"

"You did," Cas rested a hand on the other man's shoulder and led him further away from the doorway, fearing that their words would drift into the other room. "But I'm usually a very good judge of character and there is nothing off about Mala. In fact, she seems substantially like a good person. And good people are hard to come by."

"Cas, I don't like her," Dean pressed on as they stood in the hallway now facing each other.

"Why? There must be some solid reason why."

For a while, Dean said nothing. He stood there with Cas' hand on his right shoulder and he sighed. And for some odd reason, the angel realized that it wasn't just Mala's character that irked Dean. It was something else. Something that itched Cas mentally and yet he couldn't quite figure it out.

"I mean, don't you see it?" Dean looked pained. He shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe it's just me being stupid."

"Dean, you're not stupid. Everything you say or think or feel, you have valid reasons." Cas squeezed the other man's shoulder. "Tell me what it is about her that troubles you."

For a few seconds, it appeared as if Dean was struggling with his thoughts and then he swallowed hard. "She looks like _her_. You know…"

Cas frowned. Her? "Who?" he frowned, trying to bat around his brain for an answer.

"Lisa," Dean leaned back onto the wall and avoided eye contact. He felt ashamed of himself for even mentioning such an idiotic thing. "She resembles her and maybe they don't have anything in common but every time I see her, I just keep remembering these painful moments when…and things happened that were always unresolved and—"

"Dean," Cas softly rested his cupped fingers on the hunter's right cheek. He offered a soft look. "There is no need to feel terrible about it. About any of it. It was a long time ago."

"It was, but still Cas…"

"I know," the angel said softly, lightly caressing the other man's face. "You have nothing to feel guilty for. I check up on her and Ben once and awhile. Just because I know that you still care." When Dean stared at him in awe, Cas smiled. "They're doing just fine. She's happy. She's married now and very contented."

"And…Ben?" Dean's voice cracked. He couldn't believe it. He really couldn't believe that Cas had been keeping tabs on two people who had been part of Dean's past. A woman who he had been in love with, maybe during the same time that Cas had been in love with him too. And through it all, to know that Cas had to accept that Dean had wanted to live a life with someone else. To share a home with a woman who wasn't him…

Cas' cupped fingers tucked a few strands of hair behind the hunter's right ear. "Ben has a girlfriend. He plays basketball and he's really good at it. He also gets straight As."

"Atta boy," Dean's eyes glistened with tears. "Cas…"

Green eyes widened a little. "Yes?"

Dean closed the distance between them and wrapped Cas in a tight embrace. By then, the burning need inside of them to screw each other senseless had simmered down and was now replaced by a warm kind of toe-curling love. A fuzzy feeling that spread around in Dean's chest and made him smile into Cas' soft, disheveled hair.

"Thank you for checking up on them," he finally said, never wanting to let go of the one person who would go above and beyond to ensure that he was happy. "That means the world to me."

"Will you give Mala another try?" Cas hugged Dean tighter as they swayed a little on the spot. They fitted so perfectly together. "At least try for Sam. He deserves it after accepting the harsh reality of his best friend and his brother falling in love with each other."

Ten minutes later and Dean bashfully emerged from out of the kitchen and into the war room. Behind him, Cas was setting up their plates of food which was all Indian and home cooked and exactly what they both needed after a long day. And when Dean sat next to his brother around the table, he smiled at Mala because she seemed to really want to get to know him. So, he was willing to try, like Cas had said, for his brother.

"I heard that you're an ACDC fan," she said to Dean all of a sudden, her brown eyes sparkling. "I used to burn out their albums back when I was in high school until my hearing kind of went downhill for a while."

"Yeah?" Dean laughed, "man, I suffered from the same thing a few years back. Listened to 'Hell's Bells' so many times, my ears started ringing."

"Apart from rock, what other singers do you drool over?" Mala's gaze rested on Cas coming out of the kitchen. She liked him already. He seemed so calm and at the same time, fierce and strong.

"He's a major Taylor Swift fan," Sam let out of the bag with a wide grin. He studied the soft pat Cas gave his brother after resting the plate of food in front of him. "And he'll never admit this to anyone really, but he's also wildly into Halsey."

"Halsey is the bomb!" Mala exclaimed, staring in disbelief at Dean who shrugged after taking the first mouthful of dhal, rice and spicy curry. "Have you heard her latest single 'Graveyard'?

"I have listened to that song…like so many times when Cas and I…" his words caught in his throat and instead, Dean chewed slowly.

"Now I need to know what this song is about," Cas' forehead creased and he frowned at the older Winchester. "Is it a sad song, Dean? I hope that it didn't make you cry."

"Not having you made my days rainy but the song hit me to the core, man."

Mala inhaled deeply, chin resting on the palm of her hand, elbow propped on the table. She smiled at Dean and then looked at Sam. "Are they always this adorable?"

"You haven't seen anything yet," the taller Winchester confessed, eyeing his brother with as much satisfaction he could muster up. "Wait till you see them get affectionate with each other. You'll melt for sure."

"Are you done?" Dean glared at Sam.

Cas cleared his throat after the staring match lasted for a full minute. And he turned to Mala. "Naturally, I am inclined to ask you what are your intentions with Sam. Are you seeking a fling or a long term relationship?"

"Dude," Sam goggled at his best friend but Dean snorted.

Mala on the other hand seemed to be quite impressed by the question. "To be honest, Cas. Can I call you Cas?" When the angel nodded, she smiled. "I know that Sam and I come from different backgrounds. I mean, my father was a hunter and he got killed doing what he loved. And ever since he died, my mom kind of pushed that part of our lives to the back burner. But when I met Sam, I finally got to connect with someone who gets me in so many ways. Books, movies, I mean, we can spend hours reading up on stuff that normal people wouldn't even want to research…"

"Go on," Cas narrowed his eyes, trying to appear as if he was analyzing Mala and Dean's cheeks colored pink when he admired how beautiful the other man looked from across the table.

"I guess it depends on how things go. Then I'd know if it's going to be long term. But I'd like that. I really would."

"Shucks," Sam tilted his head, beamed at the ceiling and felt contented. "I share the same sentiments."

"The question is," Mala turned to face Cas by her side and she narrowed her eyes back at him, "what are your intentions with Dean? Are you seeking a fling or a long term relationship?"

Cas didn't skip a beat. "For as long as he'll have me," he said simply.

Mala was impressed with the answer. She sat back and stared. "You know, for an angel, you have the emotional range of a football stadium. It's really something that is amazing. Angels aren't known to feel anything at all. How long have you been in love with Dean?"

"Ten years," Cas admitted openly. Sam nodded and Dean, well he was gazing intently into blue eyes.

"That's a long time, bruh," Mala gasped. She flicked her attention to the older Winchester. "Damn, Dean you're so lucky. You had a guy, no scratch that, an angel waiting around for you for ten damn years. Like no one ever gets that lucky."

"What can I say?" Dean shrugged after he finished clearing his plate. "I'm not that easy to get over and I'm sure as hell not that easy to love either. But Cas, well he knows me better than anyone else. And if there's one thing that I can agree on after all these years, is that I am the luckiest man in the world to have him in my life. Without him…" those green eyes lingered on blue ones, "I'd have probably died from a bullet or at the edge of a blade by now. Heaven knows I can't live without him."

"Wow," Mala said softly, her heart melting. "Best advice?"

"No matter how hard it gets," Dean would not divert his gaze away from Cas, "don't ever let go. Figure it out together."

When Sam realized how bold and composed his brother had become since Cas had come back, he reveled in that. He was somewhat pleased and at the same time, really nervous about one thing; whether Dean's biggest expectation was aligned with Cas' reality. Because Sam was quite aware that his brother had mapped out his future with Cas. Maybe it was the starting point that got Dean back on his feet again after the breakup.

He had devised a plan in case Cas came back. Dean had stuck to that plan and he had gone out there and bought a goddamn ring, even though Sam had expressed his doubts because hey. At the end of the day, Cas was still an angel and even humans had their flaws and could malfunction when certain directions led into a definite future. Maybe, Cas wouldn't be so accepting of a marriage proposal. Maybe he would turn Dean down and perhaps ask Dean to cohabitate the bunker for many years to come.

But Sam knew his brother. He knew that once Dean set his mind on something, he pushed through the rubble and he went for it. And if Cas turned him down, then it would hurt his brother. It would probably wound him on a deeper level and he would live with it, accepting the next best thing. But it would prove to Dean that he had no control over his happiness. And then, maybe Dean would fall down or maybe he would rise up. Who knows?

However, Sam kept thinking about the ring in the red velvet box that Dean had showed him many nights ago. And the tears that were in his brother's eyes when he told Sam that he loved Cas so much that he would risk everything to be with him. And maybe, just maybe, Cas felt the same way. Maybe Cas would jump in. And it was something that Sam hoped for more than even his happiness. Because his brother deserved to be happy.

Suddenly, Dean's mobile started to vibrate on the table next to Cas and he frowned, checking the display. "Nate is calling," he said. "Who is that?"

"Oh, he's just a friend," the hunter said, snatching his phone and ignoring the call. He smiled at Cas. "I'll just call him back later."

Nate…

There was still something about that name that irked Sam. It was like an itch in his brain that needed to be scratched and when he tried to remember where he had heard that name before, Sam suddenly stiffened. Because he kept remembering him and his brother walking into a bar, lit in pink and purplish colors with brown leather cushioned seats. He remembered smelling the fresh polish on those seats. Like new seats. Then there was a man that Dean introduced as his friend.

A handsome black guy with the sweetest smile and the funniest laugh and he was the bartender. After they had sat down to have a round of drinks, Nate had said something which was weird.

"_Did Cas come back as yet? _

And when Dean shook his head and frowned, Sam asked how Nate knew Cas.

"_Oh my buddy here's told me all about the man of his dreams. He said that when the guy comes back, he wants to propose to him in here. In my joint. Now ain't that something special? Now I'm telling you, if you going to do it right, then let me know in advance. So I can set up the private area just back there," Nate gestured to a shadowed corner, "where they be no distractions. And you do your thing."_

Sam stared at his brother's laughing profile and he wondered, he really did, if Dean was finally planning to do it. Because if he was going ahead with this, Sam literally felt like he was about to explode with happiness. And when he looked at Mala, well he saw potential. He knew to himself that if his brother was capable of finding love and going as far as proposing, then the same thing was possible for him.


	30. Tea Time

Two nights later, Dean was meticulously folding the laundry, creating a neat stack of clothes on his bed and then, when the air seemed pretty quiet, he walked over to the stereo and flipped it on. The intro to 'Hotel California' drifted through the speakers, and nodding in satisfaction to himself, he returned to the heap of clothes that had come from the red basket. And as he hummed along to the song, the words bringing back memories of he and Sammy questioning their dad about the existence of the hotel, there was a soft rap on the door.

It was Cas.

He was standing there, still in his trench coat, black shirt and black pants with his tie twisted. Just a simple fault on his attire; something that always presented the angel as a sophisticatedly cute being with a little bit of a rebellious side. Like now. Cas hesitantly peeked into the room as if he was surveying the space for one of the monsters they had hunted.

"Hey you," Dean chuckled to himself, wondering why the other man was being so cautious. Folding another shirt, he pressed it onto the growing pile. "Sexy thing."

"Can I come in?" that gravelly voice asked. The angel narrowed his eyes but there was a faint smile on his face.

Dean frowned. "Cas, you don't have to ask to come into my room."

"I'm still…" the angel shrugged after stepping over the threshold, "…learning about boundaries and how relationships work. Forgive me if I…seem like a circle trying to fit into a square shaped hole."

"Holes, huh?" the grin on the hunter's face flushed Cas' cheeks and those green eyes lowered. "You are adorable. You know that?" Dean's heart was melting. "So, freaking adorable. Everything about you."

"As you've said several times, yes." Frowning at the growing heap that was about to topple over, Cas collected half of the lot and created another pile. Then, carefully he perched on the edge of the bed, palms pressed upon his thighs and eyes eagerly assessing the folding process that had somewhat paused.

They were finally at a place that felt very comfortable between them. Very soft. Very stable and recently, Cas was feeling quite contented with the way they had evolved their relationship. And Dean, well he was rather eager to prove that what they meant to each other was real. That what they shared together was sufficient enough to change his life.

Now, there was a soft glow around his countenance. "So, if you want to sleep with me in my room tonight, you could."

"On the floor?" Cas bit in his smile.

"I'm talking about in my bed," Dean groaned. "Come on, don't pretend as if you don't know what I'm talking about. Here," the hunter gestured on his bed that was neatly made. "With me. You know, that way I can get to cuddle you, hold you in my arms. Like a huggy bear."

Cas inhaled deeply. "Okay, I accept."

"Just like that, huh?" Dean chuckled, rested another folded shirt onto the pile and he walked over to the dresser, pulling open a drawer. The depths smelt faintly of Irish Spring and baby powder…the scent of the new fabric softener Sam was obsessed with.

"Well it's only natural that we keep each other warm during the nights. Plus, I can watch over you whilst you sleep. You know, chase all your bad dreams away."

"Honestly, Cas, I haven't been having any kind of bad dreams since we've had…," Dean grinned nevertheless as he collected a pile and took it over to the opened drawer.

"You can use the term 'sex', Dean. It's not a bad word," Cas was studying the hunter's every move. From his graceful fingers collecting the pile, taking it over the dresser, then neatly placing each shirt into the space. All of this, he tried to memorize because he liked to absorb the little things about the other man.

Dean, however, was blushing deeply now. "It feels weird because…" now he was obviously bashful, as he stayed by the dresser and their eyes connected, "…I mean, with a woman, when you say that you've had sex, it only means one thing. But with a guy, there's like so much more that embodies that word. In the lake," those green eyes were sparkling, "I…um, well…I did my thing…with you…"

"You did your thing…" Cas was trying hard to bite in his grin. "Is that what Dean Winchester calls it? The act of having sex with me is you _doing your thing_—"

"Cas, come on," Dean was blushing so deeply, he evidently caused the angel to adore him a little more, if that was even possible. "You know what I mean…"

"You penetrated me."

"You can't just…say it like that," Dean protested, reaching at the back of his neck and scratching an imaginary itch. "Well, sure, I stuck….something…somewhere but—"

"Your cock. In my ass."

"Don't say it like that!" Dean stared wildly at a grinning Cas. "You can't just…look, man," pressing the back of his hand over his mouth, the hunter stared at the angel who was almost toppling over from chuckling. "Cas, you have a dirty mouth, you know that?" and although he was trying to subdue his smile, Dean grinned. "For someone who was created with holy intentions, you're far from it."

"Blame yourself," Cas shrugged. "For making me fall in love with you and falling prey to physical needs. I can't help it if I've rebelled against everything that's holy because of you. I'd rather have every inch of you inside of me than return to Heaven."

"You…tease," Dean stared back in bewilderment and shook his head. "God, you're such a…you're making me... Are you going to take the trench coat off? Or will you sleep with it?"

Slowly, Cas rose from the bed in all his glory embodied in a soft, squishy being that could become so ferocious, and then he went to the door, pressed it close and turned to lock eyes with Dean. Slowly, he shrugged off his coat, draped it across the desk where a pen rolled away. And still, with his eyes on the hunter, Cas began to unbutton his black shirt, slowly at first. But then, those blue eyes took on a much more intense look. And that smirk…

"What…are you doing?" Dean was tongue-tied.

"I like to sleep without my clothes on," Cas shrugged innocently. "Is something wrong with that?"

"No," Dean cleared his throat. "No, nothing's wrong with that at all. But you never done it before…is all I'm saying."

"Perhaps things have changed so drastically between us that your mere presence makes me hot and bothered…"

"You are…hot and I'm not bothered," Dean replied and hated himself before he sounded so dumb. "I mean, sure. Whatever. It's fine. Okay."

Nevertheless, he stood there and drank in every second of the angel peeling off the layers of his clothes until, he was down to his black boxers and nothing else on. Then and only then did Cas rake his fingers through his already disheveled hair, looking goddamn sexy and illegal. And Dean couldn't help but stare, literally feeling all the blood rush down south and collect inside his gut like a volcano until, he was straining inside of his blue jeans.

Pulling back the covers, Cas climbed in and tucked himself under the blanket. But those blue eyes never left Dean's green ones. In fact, Cas kept gazing at the other man intently, trying to draw him closer and quite aware of the effect he had on the hunter.

He settled on the bed, inhaled the lingering smell of Irish Spring and Dean's perfume and Cas' eyes fluttered close eventually. His toes curled and although he was on display for the other man, there was nothing else in the world so amazing like being back in Dean's bed.

"I'm going to…get a glass of water and uh," Dean was struggling to appear composed although every part of his body was screaming to jump into bed, "…brush my teeth. Be right back."

"Okay," collecting one of the other man's books from the bedside dresser, Cas settled in and began to slowly peruse the contents. As if he wasn't even remotely affected by the turn of events.

When Dean slipped out of the room, the angel remained in the peacefulness of the room for almost ten minutes. Then after growing quite curious by the many fascinating details about Dean, he lifted the blanket and got off the bed. Quietly, Cas went to the hunter's small dresser made of polished oak that he had only brought into his room a few months ago. And the angel pulled open the topmost drawer where Dean had moments ago packed his shirts in.

He smiled at the delicate colors of the other man's boxers. The particular way he folded them. Dean had evidently fitted himself into a routine where he had literally changed everything about himself except his feelings for Cas. Where he folded his clothes in squares. His room was spotless, with no dirty plates, beer bottles or pizza boxes around. And then…those eager blue eyes rested on the same red velvet covered box tucked in the back of the drawer. It was wedged between two piles, peeking out like the most beautiful surprise.

Cas touched the box, tenderly at first. His fingertips caressed the material, soft and certain. And his heartrate quickened when he realized that without a doubt, the day would come when Dean would propose to him. When Dean would find a convenient quiet place within his heart, mind, body and soul to make the move. And when Cas reflected on what that moment would entail; the details of when and where and how Dean would propose to him, he melted. He became so soft and so elated at the same time, as he returned to under the covers, there were butterflies in his chest.

"You wouldn't believe what's going on out there," Dean slipped into the room almost as if he was an imposter in his own room. Eyes wide, he pressed the door close. "Sam," he unbuttoned his red and blue plaid shirt, still staring, "is out there, like totally making out with Mala on the kitchen table."

"Really?" Cas smiled.

"And I mean, like really going at it. I'm talking…buttons popping, hair being yanked, panting…" Dean draped his shirt on top of Cas' black shirt and he unbuckled his belt. "We have our cups of tea in the morning on that table, dammit."

"To be fair," Cas was grinning, "we have done things on the map table, haven't we?"

"Yeah but—"

"And by the kitchen sink."

Dean sighed. He toed off his jeans, one leg at a time and then quickly, he made a dash for the bed and tumbled onto the sheets. The entire pool of sheets drifted along with Dean's plunge and Cas scowled and yanked the blanket onto his side. Then growling, he pulled the entire soft material into his chest and narrowed his eyes at Dean who was suddenly laughing.

"Don't," Cas warned. "Don't you dare wrap yourself into a cocoon like you always do."

"Or else what?" Dean's eyes shone from tears. "You're going to tickle me with the feathers on your wings? I'm so scared. Look at you, looking all cute with your blue eyes and kissable lips."

"Dean."

"What?"

"Don't make me."

"Don't make you what?" Dean was trying to bite in his laughter. "Huh?"

"Don't make me mad!" Cas was on the verge of letting out a fit of laughter too. "I'm warning you, Dean. You do not want to tease me right now."

"Or else what?" the hunter raised an eyebrow and with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he tugged on the blanket that was wholly claimed by the angel. "Go ahead, tell me what you'll do to me. I dare you."

Suddenly, Cas bunched up the blanket and tossed it into the furthest corner of the room. The soft sound it made as the material collided with the dresser was then overridden with the bed creaking as Cas lunged at Dean. Not too rough though. But with just enough determination as he pinned the hunter under his bare thighs. Skin on skin. Hot like steam and then he kissed Dean until the other man squeaked. Until Dean's mind twirled around from Cas' hot tongue seeking out his.

The passion erupted between them, causing that volcano in the pit of Dean's gut to swell over. And just when he thought that he was going to suffocate in the most blissful moment, Cas boldly found Dean's cock inside his light blue boxers and he wrapped his fingers possessively around the hunter's shaft. Seeking out what was his and unearthing a low moan from Dean that was swallowed between their kiss that was ignited by hunger. So much hunger.

Cas wanted to take all he could.

His lips grazed a pathway from Dean's parted lips to the hunter's jawline, then all the way down to the softest spot on Dean's neck. And Cas kissed the other man's skin until his pores were excited. Until those green eyes widened, staring up at the ceiling when Cas began to suck Dean's neck, with the intent of leaving bruises.

All of it was so full of possessiveness that Dean felt the fire bubbling up within his soul with so much intensity that he couldn't just lay there and take it all.

Instead, he used all his energy, wrapped his arms around Cas' waist and flipped them over as the bed springs groaned in protest. And when Dean ended up pinning Cas down onto the twisted sheets, those blue eyes staring up at him with wild fascination, he leaned down and pressed the softest kiss onto parted, swollen lips. Tasting. Feeling. Dean kissed Cas like he was tenderly trying to seek out the most beautiful reaction from the other man until he got exactly what he wanted.

Cas moaned long and deep into Dean's mouth, and the hunter savored the low rumble within the man's heaving chest. The way Cas relaxed onto the sheets and kissed him back slowly. Biting Dean's bottom lip and pulling, and allowing their eyes to meet. Allowing so much love to pass between just one gaze.

The meeting of eyes. The longing to kiss each other again. And again. Dean kept breathing into the other man's lips with their eyes connected and a wild kind of fascination entered green ones. The kind of look that signaled a crackle of fireworks. The opening up of his imagination and his thirst to go in again for another kiss and this time, he kissed Cas until the other man was breathless. Tasting Cas' lips like honey and ginger and everything else that kept Dean alive. Feeling how soft those lips were.

Dean regretted pulling away eventually though. He slowly began to trail a pathway of kisses down Cas' perfect chest. His skin so soft and on fire. Cas' lungs obviously screaming out for air as his nipples were captured between bold lips and sucked. And Cas' chest heaved uncontrollably under Dean's control. He was so awakened by the feel of the hunter's dominant touches and kisses that he writhed and ran his fingers through Dean's already disheveled hair. And when Dean's lips captured the line of the angel's hips, twisting under his perfect skin, Cas gasped.

"Go on," he croaked, "take all you want."

"Tell me what you want me to do to you," Dean's voice was husky when their eyes locked. He discovered that one of his most favorite places was being between the other man's thighs. "Keep looking at me and tell me exactly what you want."

The room was filled with John Legend's 'Tonight'.

It was nearing 1am and neither of them cared about the time.

"I want you to…" Cas couldn't breathe when he felt Dean's bold hands tug on his boxers, then the hunter tossed the article of clothing into the dark.

"Go on," Dean teased, smiling from his position between Cas' legs. "I'll give you exactly what you want, darling."

"Take me. All of me," Cas was breathless, chest heaving uncontrollably, "in your mouth. I want to feel your mouth on me. Dean, I want you to—" tossing his head onto the pillow, Cas gasped when his wishes were granted. When he felt Dean's hot mouth close around his cock, he lost himself, somewhere between heaven and hell.

He couldn't breathe. Those blue eyes stared up at the ceiling, wide and unblinking. And Dean…Dean wasn't bashful anymore. He wasn't frightened of taking another man into his mouth and sucking, tasting, doing all the things he had been longing for. Instead, now he was obviously giving Cas the best blowjob he had ever received and Dean was…elated.

He held on to Cas' thighs, the angel's legs bent at the knees and he kept on going, until Cas was squirming under him. Until Cas' hoarse cries filled the room and Dean thanked the Men of Letters for making the rooms sound proof. Because Cas was never quiet when he was being fucked in any way possible.

He was loud and he oftentimes pleaded for more, for Dean to go faster like he was doing at the moment. Driving pathways through Dean's hair with his fingers and arching his back. Until he choked on not being able to function properly under the intensity of the passion rippling through his body. It was so overwhelming. So blissful. So unnerving to realize that he had lost control of his body and had given over all his willpower to the only other person he trusted more than himself. The only other person who could taste him, all of him and moan from satisfaction.

Cas was moaning and calling out Dean's name over and over again. Reaching for the hunter's hands, and entwining their fingers. Feeling how Dean took all of him inside his mouth and kept on going. Kept on steering his body down a path towards the edge of an earthshattering moment. And tears leaked from those blue eyes.

Tears of joy and bliss and everything else there was to imagine. And his body was softening. His nerves were alive and dancing and those butterflies in Cas' chest were replaced with a warm fire that grew and grew. Until he couldn't ignore how Dean was taking full control. How Dean was working up the pace and sucking skillfully and using his hands. Wrapping those fingers like a pro around Cas' cock and thoroughly enjoying every second of it. And then, when Cas came hard, his body convulsing when he grunted from release, Dean swallowed every single time. The room was filled with the musical sounds of the angel crying out hoarsely, of his breath intermingled with his moans and all the while, Dean held onto him with their fingers entwined.

"Are you alive?" the hunter asked sometime after with a smile. He was cradling Cas into his right shoulder, and gently stroking his sweat soaked hair. "Earth to my angel."

"Dean, that was…" Cas' chest heaved. Blue eyes were latched onto the ceiling. "Phenomenal. I…feel like every cell in my body has been stunned."

"That good, huh?" Dean chuckled and pressed a soft kiss onto the other man's head. "Figured that I'd blow your mind. No pun intended. Darling."

"It's almost 3am."

"And?"

"You should probably get some sleep."

Dean hugged Cas closer to him. "Getting rid of me so fast, huggy bear?"

"No, I…" the angel sighed. "Okay, fine. Stay awake until the sun rises. That's all I'd like. For you to keep talking to me. When you fall asleep, I'm left with the sound of you breathing and it's not quite an encouraging conversation to have."

"Aw," Dean felt himself growing warmer inside. "So, you miss me when I'm getting some shut eye? Ain't that the nicest thing someone has ever said to me. I miss you too, Cas. When I'm in la la land."

"Talk to me, Dean." Cas' chest felt warmer. The stillness of the night got deafly quiet. "Tell me what's on your mind."

"Well," the hunter stared up at the ceiling and felt nostalgic all of a sudden, "_you're_ always on my mind. You're like breathing now. Cause I do it naturally. Think of you every single minute. And recently I've been thinking a lot about things that are for the most part, very permanent, Cas. You wouldn't believe what I did today. Remember when I was on the phone?"

"Yes, I remember," Cas peered up into Dean's face and their eyes met. And Dean…he had the softest look in those green eyes. His expression was mellow and warm and beautiful

"I was talking to one of the teachers at the orphanage." When the angel blinked slowly, the hunter swallowed. "About adoption. I mean, Chuck's pretty much AWOL and things have been pretty quiet for months now. Apart from Sam and I taking a few jobs here and there, there's nothing major going on. So, maybe this is me being completely stupid and jumping ahead but I just wanted to call and find out what we would have to do to…adopt…when the time comes."

Adopt. So this was what bliss felt like, as humans tried to write about and entertain in poetry. A toe curling, warm, fuzzy feeling of being in someone's arms and having both of you gaze into the future. Together.

"Dean," Cas croaked, his heart melting. Smiling, he captured the other man's face with his cupped fingers. "I love you so much." He pressed their lips together in a soft kiss.

The hunter sighed into the kiss, feeling his toes curl under the sheets. "I love you too, Cas," he whispered. "And I can't wait to start a family with you. With the state of mind I've been in since you came back, I'm ready to do anything with you. And I mean…anything. When I saw you with those two little girls that day…"

"Cindy and Delilah," Cas pressed a kiss onto Dean's right cheek.

"It's not too bad. I just need to get a job."

"You already have a job," Cas frowned. "Saving people, hunting things. It's a family business. Remember?"

"Yeah, I know that. But they want proof of income and a few more things but we can do this."

"Dean, don't worry too much about it," Cas assured the other man. "When the time comes, we will find a way. That's what you always tell me. There is always a way, always a choice."

Dean's expression was serious now. "But we need this, okay? We need to do this because it's something that we both want. More than anything else. Our family. You, me…"

When Cas listened to the other man explore the future with so much certainty, he wanted nothing more than to hold him in his arms forever. To kiss him every second of every day, if that was possible. To treat him like royalty. Like he was really and truly the king of his heart. And now, when he gazed into those green eyes and identified the magnitude of Dean's plans and how he felt like they deserved to start a family, Cas melted.

"Delilah's parents are from India and Cindy was found in a basket in a dumpster in Illinois. They arrived at the orphanage around the same time together and ever since, have been inseparable. I find that…Delilah rather much seems like the quiet one. Whilst Cindy is much more compelled to be daring. She reminds me of you, actually. She even has your eyes and it's stranger because Delilah has blue eyes. Maybe it's fate, Dean. Maybe we should adopt them…Dean?"

But the hunter had already fallen asleep.

"Well, after love comes marriage," Cas whispered as he adjusted the blanket around them. The night was still and beautiful because he was with Dean. "And then…after marriage comes babies…in a carriage. At least that's what Cindy kept singing when I told her that we're together. Dean, I can't wait for you to ask me." Cas nestled his face into the hunter's chest and curled up like a comma. "I'm going to keep waiting. For as long as it takes."

* * *

"You can't expect me to go on a road trip with you and then you don't even want me to drive your car," Claire scowled and the expression was very reminiscent of Cas, Dean smiled.

They had been called out on a hunt two towns away and since Sam was presently drowning in the throes of love, he didn't mind when Claire asked for Dean's company alone. In fact, she practically shooed all of them away, including Cas, demanding that she get to spend some quality time with the older Winchester.

Why? Dean had no idea until they were on the road, Claire not behind the wheel after begging and suddenly, she was talking to him. And when she started to open up to him, Dean realized that they had so much more in common than he had bargained for, it was strange. To know that truthfully, her biology didn't come in between her and Cas being her father, but with him…there were certain things that they shared. And the road trip turned out to be quite an awakening.

"I get that she's not a hunter and she's a Christian and whatever else there is," Claire was saying with a bag of Lays chips wedged between her legs. "But I really like her, Dean. And she likes me, but Jody and Donna just don't want me to get mixed up with her because they say that I'll put her in danger."

"Kind of reminds me of when I was becoming too attached to Cas, and Sam threw a fit about it," Dean gripped the steering wheel and smiled. It was damn good to be back on the road again. The feeling of flying. In Baby. Flying down the highway with the warm sunshine paving the way and nothing but road for miles and miles.

"Really?" Claire was curious. "When was that?"

"Couple years ago. Maybe…eight years back. I think Sam knew before I did…about my feelings for Cas, I mean. But at the time, he was only trying to look out for me. Just like Jody and Donna are looking out for you. Claire, you know that the lives we live aren't exactly peachy. And I get that you love this girl…Amy, right?"

"Yeah," Claire sighed and stared out the window. "Love is just never easy for me."

"Thing is…love ain't supposed to be easy," Dean said with certainty. They were almost there, and it was just around midday. "You've seen just how complicated things were between me and Cas. But we pulled through. Why? Because no matter what, at the end of the day, I'd rather have him. Now Sam probably acted just as Jody and Donna."

"What did he say?" Claire frowned. "And by the way, you and Cas are meant for each other. There's no if or but. You're perfect in like a whole true love way."

"Thanks," Dean smiled. "We're not perfect though. Anyway, so Sam and I were on a hunt and instead of going with something he suggested, I wanted to call Cas. You know, to get his opinion on things. And Sam…well he flipped out. He starting telling me how I was going at it the wrong way. I was placing all my bets on an angel that not so long ago, I didn't believe existed. He told me how getting close to Cas was dangerous because humans and angels weren't cut from the same cloth. Blah blah. That our friendship wouldn't work, if it even was a friendship. And some day, Cas was going to prove to me that his fate in Heaven was far more important than being friends with a human."

"Wow," Claire stared in awe. "That's harsh. Sounds exactly like what Jody told me a couple weeks ago when I told her that I couldn't let Amy go."

"But you see, that's the part where I disagree," Dean frowned. He focused hard on the road but his mind still wandered back to Cas' disappointed face when the car pulled away. "You're old enough to love who you want. If this chick has no problem with you being a hunter, I say go for it. Providing," he held up a finger, "that you don't put her in harm's way. Cause you know when monsters try to get to us, they go for the ones we love."

"So, you're saying that I basically keep her at arm's length mostly," Claire said, confused. "And also keep her in my life."

"Weird, I know, but if there's one thing I've learned, is that when you love someone, and you make a decision to not act on those feelings, you get angry. And you get depressed and weighed down by denial. Till eventually, you become like a walking time bomb, ready to explode on yourself. And then you start to make these risky decisions that lead you straight into danger…"

For a long time, Claire said nothing. In fact, she merely stared into the distance and chewed on the chips, one at a time. And those blue eyes were mellow. Her expression was so reminiscent of Cas, sitting in the same place and devouring his peanut butter sandwiches with quick little nibbles that Dean had to forcibly return his attention to the road. Because after all, Claire was literally Cas' daughter, whichever way you twisted or turned it. And a long time ago, he had claimed her as his own. He used to run after her, try so hard to get her to like him and when she finally softened up to his teddy bear gifts and the stuffed cats, Cas never let her go.

He checked up on her every single week. Actually, Dean realized that Cas had developed a routine where he did his regular checks, and he also made plans to meet her on special occasions. Like her birthday, on Easter to fly a kite although she despised the activities that made her feel like a kid again. He gave her the best Christmas gifts, and he sent a flower for her every Valentine's day, reminding her that she was special to him. And now when Dean gazed at Claire sitting there, beating herself up about the international injustice of love, he sympathized.

"Hey, you know that you kind of hurt Cas' feelings when you told him to stay behind, right?" Dean's heart ached still, from remembering the sad, lost look when they drove away and left him standing there in front of the bunker.

Claire sighed. "Look, dad and I spend enough time together already," she said with a sigh. "I hardly get to spend time with you."

"You have no idea how much this means to me, Claire," Dean stared ahead.

"What's that?"

"Putting the _dad_ title on me. I mean, I get why you call Cas your dad. But me…I try my best. I really do, but I feel like I'm not always there for you."

"You're there when it matters," Claire said, throwing him a smile. "Like that time when I was three towns away in a bar and I was a mess because of Kaia and I was so high, I couldn't drive. And I called you. You came for me. Talked to me. You understood what it felt like and I know that Jody and Donna would do the same. But because you're a guy, it's different because you don't get all emotional and stuff like that. Or tell me that my clothes are too short or I'm showing too much cleavage."

Dean grinned and shrugged. "Well, it's not about the wrapping. It's about what's inside."

As the car pulled up in front of the library where they were supposed to meet Claire's friend, she smiled lovingly at him.

"What?" Dean asked, frowning.

"I get why Cas fell for you," Claire said softly, rolling up the bag of chips. "You're such a soft teddy bear on the inside. You care about others more than yourself. But you're still a douche."

"Don't talk to your dad like that!" he scolded her with a chuckle.

Three hours later, after checking into their hotel rooms, the two of them had newspaper articles spread out on the large oak table dating back to 1970. Articles on disappearances that occurred frequently every ten years. Kids, going missing and turning up dead in sewers. Bite marks on their bodies and no fingerprints due to erosion from water and being exposed to nature.

"Call me crazy," Dean frowned the info they had obtained, "but I feel like we're looking for Pennywise."

"The clown from IT?" Claire laughed, stuck a pen behind her right ear and began to peruse another article. "Lucky thing Sam didn't come along."

"Really think we should have brought Cas with us," Dean rocked back in his chair and his eyes became distant.

After gazing at her hunter dad for a while, the blonde sighed. "You really miss him already, don't you?"

"More than you can imagine," Dean's voice broke a little.

"Call him," Claire said, fingering the edge of the page and feeling regretful. She could literally recognize the pain in Dean's eyes. And was reminded of what she would see when she looked in the mirror. Longing for Amy. Missing Amy like she could never miss anything else more.

"Yeah?" Dean blinked at her, his green eyes distant. "By now he's probably putting on the kettle, about to make tea for dinner."

"What do you think he's going to eat?" Claire rested her chin on her cupped hand and smiled lovingly at Dean.

The hunter sighed. He could see it all so clearly. Cas slowly approaching the stove, his feet nestled in those awfully cute blue rabbit slippers that were fuzzy and soft. Probably still in his trench coat because he lived in that damn thing. And because it was routine for him, Cas would reach for the jar that contained the assorted teabags and he would by reflex, take out two. Then, remembering that Dean wasn't there, he would return the second one to the jar and sigh.

"I think that he would try to eat as much peanut butter and jelly sandwiches tonight," Dean said softly. "More than usual."

"Why more than usual?" Claire frowned.

"Because…when he's sad, he gets the munchies. And believe me, he has an appetite. Remind me to buy two loaves of bread tomorrow when we're heading back," Dean collected his beer and took a sip. "Cas will probably eat a whole loaf tonight."

"Jesus, you two should get married already," Claire laughed, sitting back and folding her arms. "I mean, you're so domesticated. And you have the ring," she reminded him. "So, what's stopping you?"

"I get jittery, is all," Dean shrugged. He smiled at her.

"Why?" Claire dragged out the one worded question. "Come on. Cas would never turn you down when you ask him. He's probably just waiting for you to pop the question so that you could make him the happiest man ever."

Dean sighed. There was a small wind chime with little colorful butterflies by the window. The sound as the wind caressed it was haunting. "I don't know, man. I'm just terrified that I wouldn't get it right. That I wouldn't do it right. All my life, I never really put much thought into proposing. I mean, back when I was with Lisa, it felt more like something that could happen but it wasn't a big deal. But with Cas…"

"It's different, duh," Claire shook her head. "Dean, honestly, you're overthinking it, okay? And I get you. You're not wrong for wanting this to be perfect. But you have me. I can help you plan it."

"You?" Dean stared at her and smiled, "you've never come across as the type who gets all soft and loving when it comes to anything romantic."

"You might be surprised how much I've changed," Claire countered. She pushed the articles out of the way and cleared her throat. "Look, all you need to decide is where you're going to do it, who you want as witnesses and I can get Cas there without him suspecting a thing. I mean, all I have to do is call him and tell him that I want to spend some time with him and he's all in. Doesn't matter where or when."

"You make it sound so easy," Dean rolled his eyes.

"That's why you need to give someone else the job, douche," she smiled at him. "All you need to do is show up with the ring, looking as handsome as you usually do. Get your shit together and when the time is right, you'll do it. You'll go down on one knee and open the damn box and you'll say five words. 'Cas, will you marry me?' And then you wait until he says yes, and you take the ring out and put it on his finger. And you kiss. Viola!"

"Dammit," Dean was kneading his forehead, eyes squeezed shut. "Okay, fine. You can help." He was already so nervous and they hadn't even determined a date and place.

"Now take this," Claire held out his phone with a serious face, "and go call him. He's probably staring at his phone with that adorable scrunched up expression, waiting on you."

"Thanks, kid," he rose up, felt his knees weaken from still dwelling on the proposal, and Dean collected the mobile from her.

Ten minutes later, he had slipped into the afternoon that was fading into a comfortable darkness, illuminated by streetlights. And sitting on a bench just outside the restaurant that was quiet for a Tuesday evening, Dean speed dialed the one person who meant so much to him, he couldn't go a second without thinking of the magnitude of the love he had for the angel.

"Dean," Cas answered after the first ring, his voice husky and underlined by slight worry.

"Hey, darling," the hunter smiled in the shadows, crouching over a little and feeling quite overwhelmed. "How's it going over there?"

"Quiet and boring and depressing. Did you two find a hotel?"

"We did," Dean was savoring every word, and the sound of Cas' voice. "Might not get much sleep tonight."

"Did you eat?" there was the sound of china clinking on Cas' end.

"I did. Had a tuna sandwich. Claire had a burger with fries and extra cheese. She's like a mini me," Dean smiled from the fond memory of the blonde stuffing her face. "You getting your cup of tea, huh?"

"I actually took out two teabags and then realized that you weren't here…with me," Cas sounded so soft.

Dean smiled. "Knew you'd do that."

"Guess what I'm having for dinner…"

"Easy one," Dean couldn't stop smiling. "Your favorite, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Did you make like a whole bunch of 'em?"

"There is no bread left in the bag," Cas stated and the hunter could see him frowning through the phone. "Are you making any progress on the case?"

"Well, we're having our fair share of doubts here. Three bodies turned up within a week, and they've been on the prowl to find the bastard who did it. But I don't know. To me it feels like it's someone the town trusts but would never suspect. And I don't think that there's anything supernatural about it. Just a sadistic asshole who preys on children."

Cas sighed. "This is where you mention Pennywise the clown and you ask me if I remember the movie."

Dean was so taken aback by the reference, he laughed. "I'm that predictable?"

"Most times you are. But then I like when you surprise me. Please, do not check in the sewers. I'm already going crazy by not being there to protect you and Claire. So, Dean…"

"I know, I know," the hunter gave in to the other man's pleads. "Don't do anything stupid."

"Come back home to me in one piece," Cas croaked from so many miles away. "And take care of Claire. You also need at least five hours sleep. And a decent breakfast comprising of a cup of tea, and a fruit. I left a cooler bag in the backseat with snacks and apples and painkillers in case you get one of those awful migraines. There is also a pack of beef jerky –"

"Cas, you…" tears were in Dean's eyes, tears that he could not hold back. His heart was melting, and no matter how much he tried to subdue the softness, he was collapsing inside. "You packed a bag. With snacks. And apples. Cas. You are so amazing." Dean choked on his words. Pinching the tip of his nose, he breathed through his lips. "Man, I want to hug you so bad right now."

"I want to hug you too, Dean," Cas said softly. "Please don't cry. I do all these things because I love you. You are aware of that, aren't you?"

"Yeah."

"And my job is to take care of you in any way I can. And Claire too. But most of all you because Claire can take care of herself but you…you're so precious and sometimes you don't sleep enough or you don't eat enough and I need you to take care of yourself even when I'm not there to do it for you."

"You're making me cry," Dean said hoarsely although he forced out a chuckle. "I'm sitting in front of this restaurant and a couple just walked past and they looked at me like I'm a crazy person."

"Crazy in love."

"With my angel," Dean continued. He studied his hands, splayed out his fingers. "Tell me you miss me."

"I miss you," Cas said with as much feeling in between three words that he could muster up. "And I love you, Dean Winchester."

"I love you too, darling," he said softly before ending the call. Then after collecting the cooler bag from the backseat of the Impala, Dean walked towards the hotel with a softer heart and wet eyes.


	31. Made With Love

It took one more day to figure out that the monster they were trying to track down wasn't of the supernatural nature at all. Instead, he was a seventy-five years old hermit who had developed a murderous lifestyle. He was also the janitor at the local high school, easily preying on kids who favored the woods to hang out. And within twenty-four hours, an arrest was made with Claire and Dean lurking in the shadows and the old bastard was taken away in shackles.

"He didn't even put up a fight," the blonde noted. She peeled away the cheese from the chicken patty and chewed on it. "Like, can you even get that gross image of him out of your mind?"

"Of him covered in sewerage and looking like a rat?" Dean scrunched up his nose. "Not ever. Feels like he's one of the worst kind of monsters we've ever come across."

"Sad part is, the worst kind are always humans. Not vampires. Not werewolves. But sick humans. Sometimes I feel like hell and heaven aren't separate places. I feel like hell is right here on earth."

Her depth was impressive. At times, Dean wondered how in the world Claire could have chosen a life of hunting when she would have been breezing through college with exceptional grades. But then when he thought about Sam and his choice to join the family business because he wanted to help people, Dean realized that maybe Claire had chosen this path because of what had happened to her parents. Of the injustice that had brushed both of them into the danger zone. Of not knowing if in twenty-four hours, they would be alive or dead.

And because he was so cognizant of getting them back to Texas in one piece, Dean woke Claire up at the crack of dawn to travel out of the town.

"Can we make one stop on the way?" she was staring at her phone.

With the windows down, Dean had fueled up on enough coffee to keep sleepiness at bay. "Sure. Just tell me where."

"I want you to meet Amy," she suddenly said, not in an uncertain tone, but with all the confidence she could muster up. Their eyes connected.

Dean smiled. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Claire smiled, squeezing the phone between her fingers. "You okay with that?"

"I mean," he shrugged, "sure, why not? But I've got to warn you, if she's bad news, I'm going to be straight up with my thoughts after we're on the road again."

"That's why I want you to meet her," Claire said. She sighed. "Jody and Donna seem to think that I shouldn't waste my time on her because she seems like she's from a totally different world compared to mine."

"Technically, she is."

"Yeah, but she knows stuff. I've told her. Like…everything and she's studying folklore at uni. So she's got this whole wealth of knowledge on things we don't even know about as yet."

"Like?" Dean was curious now. He reached over and turned down the music.

"Like…lore from all other parts of the world. America is a melting pot of people coming from all over and chances are, monsters will migrate…"

Dean had to laugh as he suddenly envisioned a bunch of hairy werewolves climbing the steps into an airplane. Then sitting down amongst people who would stare and take pictures. Most persons would probably think that it was all an act. Humans could be so naïve.

They ended up stopping to have lunch at eleven at burger joint in a city that apparently celebrated every day of the week with community events. Today was the day of the flowers and everywhere they turned, were bunches of sunflowers, daisies, lilies and roses.

"Did you ever get Cas a bunch of flowers?" Claire asked as they sat inside an empty place as children danced around in the public square. They were wearing pretty hats woven with flowers and the glee on their faces was something that Dean couldn't help but gaze at consistently though the glass in front of him.

"Nah," he said absentmindedly.

"Dude," Claire slapped his arm and scowling, Dean turned to her. "You've never given Cas flowers? What the hell is wrong with you? It's the most romantic thing ever!"

"I've gotten him other romantic things!" he admitted in a defensive tone.

"Like?" she inclined her head and waited.

"A teddy bear mug, fluffy slippers that look like rabbits, a blanket that comes with a hoodie with cat ears on it. Um," Dean swallowed, "I buy him boxes of teas, jams, he also likes anything that is in the shape of a bee or a cat so I got him keyrings and sweaters and—"

"Flowers," Claire cut him off, staring, "preferably carnations that are light red or white because those are his favorite. And chocolates! Get him Reese's cups because he likes peanut butter. Dean, you're such a—"

"Douche, I know. Okay, fine. After we're done here, I'll get him flowers—"

"What kind of flowers?" Claire urged him to remember.

Dean sighed. He folded his arms on the table and leveled their eyes. "Carnations; light red and white."

Fifteen minutes after, Amy showed up dressed in a very pretty pink dress with white frills and her black hair tied up in a high ponytail. She exuberated the kind of softness that was felt in her hug, which Dean managed to also breathe in an abundance of rosemary. And her eyes were the kindest chocolate color. In general, she seemed genuinely like a good spirit, until she openly asked who had parked the awful looking car outside.

Dean, after receiving a kick under the table, squeaked and kept his retort to himself.

"It's nice knowing that you stopped by to see me. When I got the message, I was really kind of flustered, especially after you told me that you're bringing your dad…"

Claire's cheek turned crimson and Dean…well he was pretty impressed that his title extended to everyone the blonde was close to.

"After meeting your moms, I got the feeling like they didn't approve."

"They do," Claire lied, glancing at Dean. "But they're just not okay with me bringing you into the kind of life I live. You know, all the danger and hunting the monsters you read about."

"Do you hunt too?" Amy turned to Dean and smiled.

"It's a family business," Claire answered for him because Dean was too quiet and suddenly realizing that not only was something off about Amy. But she seemed to be…what was the word? A bit too generous in speaking her mind. Not that anything was wrong with that. Cas shared the same sentiments by saying exactly what he thought about many things. But it was also the look in those brown eyes when the questions were asked or Amy said something. She looked…almost as if she was trying to dare Claire to oppose.

"What were you hunting?" Amy wanted to know.

Claire, as genuine as she was in all her kindness, smiled. "Turns out that it wasn't a monster, but a very messed up human."

"We're all messed up," Amy said with the sweetest smile.

"Yeah, but you wouldn't kidnap kids, bite them and then kill them," Claire frowned. "That's the definition of sadistic."

"Maybe it was the way he was brought up or something—"

"I'm going to get those flowers now," Dean suddenly sprang up and sent Claire a look that only meant one thing. That Amy was bad news and he didn't like what he was witnessing. "Meet me in the car when you're ready."

When he walked away though, something in Claire's eyes reflected sadness from his disapproval. And even after he had done exactly what she had said, bought the carnations and Reese's for Cas, when she came back to the car, Claire wasn't ready to hear the truth.

"I'm going to stay here," she said, leaning into the car from the passenger's side. "You go on without me."

Dean wasn't surprised though. "When will you get back to Texas?"

Claire sighed. She stood up, tapped her boot on the pavement, stared at Amy through the glass window and then she bent down again to look at Dean. "Um, tell Cas that I'll call him and that he shouldn't worry about me."

"And I don't have a right to worry about you?" he felt wounded because he was trying to be kind, to be considerate of her wellbeing and still, she felt compelled to act defensive.

"Look, it's not like you don't know what this is like, okay?" now she was glaring at him. "I like her. A lot and I don't care if she has her ways or she has these weird things that she says. But I like her. Just like you like Cas, despite his awkward looks and the fact that he's an angel which no one talks about how crazy that is for a human to actually be with an angel. It's like a werewolf being with a freaking vampire. How do you even make that work because—"

"You need to stop," Dean said through his teeth as he felt a surge of anger rush up inside of him and he felt like cutting the flow of the conversation. "You do what you got to do. Stay, be with whoever you want to be with. But don't you ever…criticize something you will never understand. Because despite the fact that he's an angel and I'm human, we have something that many people will never be able to experience. And that's the kind of love that isn't easy, but it's worth it and some days it gets to us but most days we remember how far we've come and how we love each other and that's all that matters."

"Dean, I'm sorry," Claire was softer now, and apologetic. "I didn't mean what I said…"

"It's fine, really," Dean started up the car, "you should be proud that you have two dads who can show you how love ain't easy but it's worth it in the end. And two moms also who care about you, wherever you go. Be safe. And call Cas when you get the time."

Without waiting on her to reply, he drove out of town and didn't breathe until she had disappeared from the rearview mirror.

By the time Dean descended the stairs into the bunker, the bunch of flowers hidden behind his back and a blue gift bag swinging from the other hand, he was exhausted. It was almost five in the afternoon and he was so tired of thinking during the rest of the drive home. Thinking about what Claire had said about him being human and Cas…an angel. And how it was crazy. Would an angel and a human even be allowed to share something so special like love?

But hadn't they proven to each other that their love crossed boundaries and was justifiable? Maybe many people shared the same views as Claire did. Well obviously she had a problem with the idea of them being together although she referred to them as her dads. But he really didn't care what anyone else thought. What he and Cas had…they made things work. They didn't fall short. Sure there had been some hiccups in the beginning but they pulled through and look how they had created something beautiful.

"Dean," Cas emerged from the kitchen, pulling off his bright red mittens with those wide blue eyes. "You're back."

It was so refreshing to see him. Those beautiful blue eyes. The way Cas shuffled his light steps as he came closer and his ruffled hair.

"Yeah, babe," the hunter slowly walked over and bashfully smiled. "Did Claire call you?"

"She said that she decided to stay with her girlfriend and that you are upset with her," Cas was frowning. He collected Dean's face between his palms and gazed into the other man's eyes. "What happened?"

"A story for later," the hunter pressed a soft kiss onto Cas' forehead and brought forward the flowers that smelled fresh and wonderful. "These are for you."

At first, Cas was stunned from the gesture. His chest heaved and after stepping back to accommodate the flowers displayed between them, those blue eyes blinked at green ones. And there was so much love. So much depth in that gaze that was initiated that Dean's knees weakened and his hands became shaky and he stopped breathing.

"You brought me carnations?" Cas asked in a softer tone.

Dean frowned. "What, is something wrong with them?"

"No!" Cas quickly closed the distance, and wrapped his fingers around the bottom of the bouquet. "No, Dean, carnations are my favorite flowers. But do you know what these colors of carnations mean?"

"Um, not exactly. But you're going to tell me anyway so…"

"The red ones signify deep love and the white ones tell me that the love we have is pure. And now I'm going to cry because you've never brought me flowers or…" Cas collected the blue gift bag Dean handed over with tears in his eyes.

"Dunno if you've ever had these but they might be your new favorite…"

Cas parted the top of the bag and peered inside. Then after locking eyes with Dean and displaying how he was melting from the loving gestures, he pulled out the packet of Reese's peanut butter cups and he smiled widely.

"Oh, Dean. Why are you being so romantic?" Collecting the other man into a soft hug, Cas pressed a kiss onto the hunter's neck. He smelled so familiar, like another part of the angel that had been away for too long. "Did you miss me so much that you had to bring me flowers and chocolates?"

"Figured I'd start today," Dean shrugged, moaning into their embrace when he felt every single part of Cas that was on fire and so warm. "Hey, you smell…delicious. What's that? Apples?" Sniffing the angel's hair, the hunter felt that low rumble of a chuckle originating from within the other man.

"I made something special for you."

Pulling away and allowing their eyes to meet, Dean's chest swelled with happiness. "Oh, really? What did you whip up? I'm starving."

With his arm around Cas' waist, the angel led the other man into the kitchen where the counters were spotless. The jars were lined up and everything was pristine. And most times, it was always like that. Whenever Cas or Sam used the kitchen to prepare meals, they cleaned as they worked but Dean…well he was the kind of guy who liked to follow the instructions on the box, dump everything into the sink and then wash up after he had eaten.

There was a pie, a beautiful pie with the most amazing looking crust sitting in the middle of the table. And Dean…he slowly tore himself away from Cas' grasp and took tentative steps towards the most glorious sight, trying to decipher whether it was an apparition or real. And on top of the pie was a heart carved into the crust.

"Made with love," Cas said smiling from by the doorway. "I figured…why not add something special for the love of my life? So, I did. And I…Dean! Would you slow down?"

The hunter was already seated at the table, with a plate in front of him and grabbing the spatula, he cut a hefty slice. Then plopping the pie onto his plate, tongue tucked into the corner of his mouth, Dean grinned from ear to ear as he collected a fork and gently dug into the soft filling. But of course, learning his lesson the hard way, as soon as he tried a piece inside his mouth, the damn thing was so hot, Dean had to continue chewing whilst his taste buds were burnt.

Retrieving a beer from the refrigerator, Cas walked over and rested the bottle onto the table. Their eyes met and just for a moment, green ones sparkled enough to signify that he was thoroughly pleased. So pleased, that he could not stop chewing until two slices were devoured and his sweet tooth was contented. Then and only then did Cas steal the pie away further from Dean to keep some for Sam. And when he did, the hunter glared at him, as if he had committed the ultimate crime.

"My carnations are the most beautiful gift I have ever received," Cas said a few minutes later, sniffing the flowers that he delicately held in his arms.

"Basically, it's one of two things," Sam's voice sounded from the war room. His heavy footfalls drew closer to the kitchen, followed by the clicking of heels. "Either she wants to steal me away from you. Or she's genuinely trying to be a friend."

"But she groped you," Mala came to an abrupt stop in the kitchen when her eyes rested on Dean, "oh hey you! Think of what she'd do to poor Dean," this she directed at Sam who was towering above all of them.

"Who would do what to me?" the older Winchester frowned, licking his spoon.

"Her sister," Sam stated, smiling from the carnations in Cas' hands to his brother and then back to the angel. "Well, this is nice."

"What?" Mala sent him a frown, obviously believing that his comment was about her sibling. But when she noted the flowers, fresh and beautiful, those brown eyes melted. "Oh, how sweet is this?" Walking over to Cas, she gently touched one of the petals and turned to Sam. "What a surprise to find out that Dean's the romantic one when I thought you would be."

"Hey! In my defense, you said several times that you're not the type of woman who wants flowers and chocolates," Sam said holding up his hands. "But instead, you'd prefer books and girly stationery. Hey, so we were going to head to this carnival that's in town tonight. And we were wondering if you two would like to make it a double. You know, two brothers, out on the town, showing off their merch."

"I'd like that—"

"I'll pass," Dean cut Cas' acceptance and received disappointed looks from all around. He sighed. "Man, come on. I've been on the road all damn day. I'm hungry and I need a shower and I don't think I can stand on my feet and keep my eyes open."

"Listen, get a shower," Sam suggested with an inquisitive look, "a cold one. Put on your best shirt, grab a cup of coffee and if you happen to fall asleep, Cas will take the top half of you and I'll drag the bottom."

"We'll just dump you in the Impala," Mala grinned at the older Winchester. "And besides, isn't Cas strong enough to lift you up by himself?"

Sam was smirking. Hiding his grin behind his hand, he threw a well-known look of wickedness at his brother.

"Shut your face," Dean pointed at him, glaring. "And you," he turned to Mala, "don't encourage him."

From the moment the four of them walked through the wooden gates leading into the carnival, the smell of popcorn hit them like a freight train. Their ticket stubs were a bright yellow and coupons for their first free ride and although Mala wanted to try out every single one, Sam was too tall to qualify for most of the games or rides. Which pretty much left Dean and Cas to wander off by themselves into the area of food stalls. And feeling quite contented that Dean had come along with him, Cas bought the hunter a heavy cheese taco with beef, onions and salsa.

"You keep feeding me," Dean said after they both sat down on a bench in front of the Hall of Mirrors, "and I'll have your babies."

Those blue eyes were soft as Cas gazed back at the other man, chin cupped into his right hand and he smiled. "Red looks good on you, Dean."

"Hmmph," the hunter checked his attire out, mouth stuffed with taco and he shrugged.

"Can I tell you something that might sound incredibly weird but it is the truth?" Cas waited on the other man's nod and with their eyes connected, he blinked slowly.

"Anytime now, Cas," Dean said when there was mere silence filled with prolonged gazing.

"When we're together, whether we're among other people or by ourselves, I can't control my thoughts. I keep remembering the intimate things we've done to each other. The way you've touched me and I've touched you…"

Dean swallowed hard, eyes widening. His chest heaved. "Cas…"

"I'm sorry," the angel shook his head quickly and sat back. His eyes flicked to the food stalls around them, people passing by and laughing. "Forgive me for being so inappropriate whilst you're eating. Have you seen the moon? It's full tonight."

"You don't have to apologize for what you just said to me."

"Werewolves are probably turning," Cas laughed nervously and started squeezing the end of the tissue on the table between his fingers. "Do you recall the term you came up with? It was a werepire and you—"

"Cas, I think about those things too," Dean was staring at the other man, his taco bitten down, not completely gone but more than halfway eaten. "Every second of every damn day, I remember what we've done to each other. In bed, on the map table, against the map table, in the lake. When I first kissed you, and you were sandwiched between me and Baby…"

With his face becoming flushed, Cas bit his lips and those mellow blue eyes flicked up to meet green ones.

"I remember where my mouth has been too," Dean shook his head, elbows on the table and he slowly lowered his left hand. Then without glancing around, he softly rested his palm upon Cas' cupped fingers that were still playing nervously with the white square of tissue. "And I've got to tell ya, Cas. Nothing tastes as good as you. And I mean…nothing. Not even this…taco."

The angel stopped fidgeting and his chest heaved uncontrollably. "Really, Dean?"

The other man nodded with certainty. "Really. And you know what else?"

"What?"

Dean squeezed Cas' fingers gingerly between his own and he didn't let go. "I've memorized every inch of you so damn well that I can be anywhere, and I can just look at you. And I can see you under your clothes and I know. I just know that I've been there and I've touched you where no one else has and it makes me feel like the luckiest man in the world. Every damn day I feel like I'm worth it because of knowing that I have you. So don't you ever apologize for telling me those things, okay?"

Inhaling deeply, Cas nodded. His chest felt so fluttery and yet he was contented and happy. "Okay, Dean."

"Good, now since we're on the topic of seeing each other naked in public places," grinning, the hunter resumed eating what remained of his taco, "I was going through my stuff and I came across one of Sammy's Christmas gifts. Guess what it was."

"A…sex toy?" Cas squinted his eyes and appeared quite innocent although his words suggested quite the opposite.

Dean, however, was impressed by the suggestion. "Um, no. He gave me a bottle of lube. Are you into sex toys, Cas?"

"Well I've been privy to their functions and looks," the angel admitted without sparing a second. Nimbly, he began to pry apart the tissue between his fingers.

And Dean…Dean was shocked. "How?"

"By reading. And looking at videos—"

"Wait, what videos, Cas?" Dean's eyes were wide as saucers. By then, his taco was already devoured and the red and white checkered container was resting on the table and quite forgotten of.

The angel shrugged. "The ones you look at on your laptop. I have no idea where the hamster comes in but—"

"Porn," Dean couldn't believe it. He stared and then leaned over the table. "You've been looking at porn?" he asked in a heavy whisper. "You have no need to look at that. Dammit, I haven't touched those sites in ages. I've got all I need in one package wrapped in a trench coat."

Cas blushed deeply. "Okay, so I haven't looked at the videos to fill any voids inside of me in relation to you," the angel justified in plain terms. "But I was just curious to know why Sam kept referencing me being a _top_ and the term BDSM."

"I'm going to kill him," Dean suddenly glanced around, looking for his brother and feeling quite embarrassed. "I am so going to make him regret he ever asked you that. I mean, come on! He just can't help himself. And I don't even interfere with his sex life. So why does he feel the need to jump in?"

"Forget about Sam," Cas said, sounding rather irritated by the avoidance of the topic he had brought up. When Dean sent him a surprised look, the angel sighed. "I'm sorry, but I really would like to know your thoughts on BDSM because I'm not…I don't favor the concept of pain and pleasure. Do you?"

"Cas, you know what I'm like in bed," Dean's face turned crimson, "I don't think that I need to spell it out for you. And I don't like the freaking concept either. When we're…you know…" Dean swallowed hard, "um…we have our own way of doing things. We go slow and we…it's sensual. So…"

"You really can't say it, can you?"

"I _can_ say it," Dean said defensively, offering a shrug and avoiding eye contact.

"Then say it," Cas sat back, folded his arms and waited. "Go ahead and look me in the eyes and rephrase what you just said to me."

"Cas, come on," Dean's eyes flicked to blue ones and then onto the table. And he felt like his throat was constricting. Like his hands were shaking. The lights around him were brighter and the sounds were sharper and when he still felt Cas' eyes on him, peeling away all his insecurities, he choked on his thoughts.

"Dean…"

Cas' stare became mellow eventually, when he realized that the other man's inner struggle wasn't initiated from his inability to express himself wholly. But his restraint from vocalizing his thoughts in a public space was more reliant on the fact that he preferred to act instead of be expressive. Dean was more practical rather than poetic.

"It's alright," Cas said softly, smiling a little and glancing up at the stars. "You know, it is a beautiful night and I'd love to ride the Ferris Wheel with you beside me. Shall we go?"

Feeling quite out of sorts with himself, Dean nodded. "Yeah, let's do it." And although he wanted to refrain from any PDA, it was automatic. It was like breathing.

His hand wove its way around Cas' waist and they walked towards the short line awaiting the ride. To any bystander, they appeared to be simply…comfortable with each other. Sam, from a distance pinpointed his brother first and as he gazed at him, he saw nothing but a softness that never really had been revealed for so many years. Dean was…defeated by love. His wild spirit had been calmed and now he looked in the simplest definition as…happy.

When the wheel that was lined with many lights wound them to the top with nothing but the stars above their heads, it was then when Cas entwined their fingers. With the shyest smile, he bit his lips and gazed at Dean who was in fact…blushing deeply because he felt like they were teenagers in love. Like they were on their first date and alone for the first time and maybe this was how it was supposed to feel continuously to keep the flame ignited. Like they were finding each other again and again.

"Cas, when we…make love to each other…." Dean began in a tone so soft, the other man feared that the wind would chase every word away too quickly. "When we have…sex…"

"Dean, you don't have to say anything," Cas said softly. "It's fine."

"No, it's not," the hunter confessed, bashfully gazing at the world around him dancing in lights and swallowing hard. "Sex with you, it's mind-blowing and it's sensual and it's not just a…thing…it's more than that to me. I mean, the way you touch me is…no one has ever done that to me. Like ever. You have a way of knowing exactly what I want and when I want it and where I…where I want to be kissed or how. But for me to talk about it like this…it's not that I don't want to. But it makes me uncomfortable because…" his breath hitched when their eyes met.

Dean lowered their entwined fingers and rested Cas' hand between his legs. He was breathless. He was losing control. "Do you feel…what talking about it does…to me?"

He was hard in his pants, that much Cas could feel evidently. Hard, and straining inside his jeans and beneath Cas' fingers, Dean felt hot and alive and so tempting, that even though the ground was dimly lit and the Ferris Wheel was shadowed, he still wanted to dip his hand inside of Dean's pants. He wanted to feel him beneath his fingers. He wanted to become familiar again with how thick Dean was between his fingers. How his cock would twitch and react to every single stroke and although they were above the ground, Cas felt like they were flying.

And Dean…

He pressed Cas' soft hand in between his legs and Dean kissed the other man slow and sensual like they were kissing for the first time. Like they were trying to find each other again. And as they kissed, Cas cupped his fingers behind Dean's right ear and pulled him closer, trying to take all of the hunter into his space. Trying to consume him and overwhelm him. Until there was nothing left but the inability to catch their breaths and when the Ferris Wheel groaned and began to wound them downwards, their eyes never left each other.

Dean couldn't remember much after that though. The minutes were filled with him blindly being tugged towards the Impala through a sea of lights and music and then Cas was pulling at his shirt. They laughed into each other's mouths, going in for another deepened kiss. And his head…Dean's mind was spinning like a top. Round and round when Cas took him into his arms and held him so tightly, there was nothing in the world that could break them. There was nothing that could convince Dean that he couldn't be happy.

Cas fumbled with his belt buckle and unzipped his pants and before Dean realized what was happening, the angel was on top of him. And Cas was fully in control, freeing his hardened cock from his pants and planting his thighs on either side of the hunter. He splayed Dean's arms upwards and entwined their fingers and then Cas began to grind their hips together. He worked up a rhythm that was slow and delicious. The two of them moving on each other, grunting and moaning and creating enough friction between them from their cocks slotted together. Until the heat inside the car was making them sweat. And as much as they tried to pelt each other to the edge, neither of them wanted to let go.

Dean was growing so weak from using up so much energy by panting and feeling the tension pool into his gut, that he squeezed his eyes shut and willed the moment to come. He gave in completely, to everything that Cas was doing to him. The way Cas leaned down and bit on his right shoulder, almost drawing blood. The way Cas made him squirm and moan and cry out his name over and over again because Cas demanded him to. And above all, the way Cas made him tither off the edge when he begged Dean to. It was beautiful.

Then after the hunter came hard between their bodies grinding together, Cas took Dean's cock fully into his mouth and he, in return, gave him the best blowjob ever. Until Dean was begging for more, his vision pinched and growing darker around the edges as the sounds of the carnival were fading in a world that didn't feel like the one he was in. And then when Dean came again, his body convulsed and his hips bucked and with every release into Cas' mouth, his groan was guttural and raw. His fingers raking pathways through the angel's hair and his knees bent and he let go over and over again, feeling his abdomen cramping and his muscles stretching.

"Cas!" he cried out when he believed that the crescendo was dying down and the other man still kept going down on him. "Dammit, you're…" choking on his words, he was gasped for air and blindly threw his head back onto the seat. His shirt stuck to his chest. His fingertips were on growing numb and his toes in his boots were pointed. "Cas!" he squeezed out hoarsely when the other man took him down his throat smoothly over and over again, faster and skillfully. "Fucking hell…what –" and then after feeling like he would combust, Dean came harder than before, and this time, he twisted in Cas' grasp, writhing and bucking his hips as every single bit of energy inside of him spent itself into the other man's mouth.

By the time they were finished with each other, the kiss of the cold wind on their sweat soaked bodies and wet clothes greeted them like sunlight after a storm. And after weakly walking back to the carnival to get them a beer each, Dean hopped onto the hood of the Impala beside the man who had literally blew his mind into smithereens a few minutes ago.

"That was…" the hunter still was breathless after taking a long pull on his beer… "I've never had sex like that. Like…ever. I swear, every time we make out, I feel like we reach a whole other level."

Cas laughed, his hair tussled and his blue eyes on fire.

"Three times!" Dean exclaimed, staring at the dancing lights of the carnival with widened eyes. "I'm dry, man. I'm going to sleep like a baby tonight."

"The Impala probably smells a lot like sex."

"I rolled down the windows, sprayed the inside with some Axe. They wouldn't figure out a thing. My bets are on the two of them finding their way back without us. The four of us are like freaking hormonal teenagers all over again. Sam's smitten over Mala and I'm fucking head over heels in love with you. I mean, come on!" Dean knew he was rambling but Cas was looking at him with a look of adoration and he couldn't stop. "We haven't had this big a win in years. And I mean, this major kind of romance happening. No wars getting in between. Maybe this is what we needed all along. Just some time to unwind and get in tune with our feelings."

"Because all these years, so many distractions from Heaven and Hell were keeping us apart," Cas contributed. He sipped on his beer and bit his lips.

Dean studied the side of the angel's face and laughed nervously. "I mean, not only those things. I was neck deep buried in guilt and doubt about my feelings for you. Head in my ass for ten years tops, I could have been getting so much more." When he thought about it, his chest ached to realize that the maybes probably didn't matter anymore.

"You could have been getting the best blowjobs of your life," Cas said with a smile. "Maybe you wouldn't have been such a pain in the ass most times." Smirking afterwards, the angel satisfactorily felt the hunter's eyes glued to him.

"Hey!" Dean offered a look of surprise. "I was a pain in the ass?"

"To me, yes. On many occasions. And very grumpy. I always wanted to grab you, slam you against a wall and kiss the anger out of you. You were always angry."

"I was…" Dean admitted softly, "always angry, I mean. And maybe it was because I was bottling up my feelings for you mostly. Sometimes I felt like there was something eating away inside of me and I refused to diagnose it. Like Sam said once, I hate when people keep secrets from me but I was keeping the biggest secret from myself."

In fact, Cas had always known that Dean had been in denial. "Do you feel better now?"

The wind lifted his soft hair and the hunter nodded. "Totally!" Dean, with his legs spread apart, studied the sea of lights dancing in the carnival and he smiled. "I feel…elated. Like I'm walking on a tightrope and I know that I'm not going to fall because you've got me."

"How romantic."

"Shut up, you…" Dean's cheeks flushed when he stared at Cas, "adorable…angel."

"We just made out, in your car," Cas laughed and the sound was like music to the hunter's ears, "for the first time. Do you realize that? Baby has fond memories, doesn't she?"

With a satisfied grin, the other man nodded. "Oh yeah," Dean lifted his beer bottle and clinked it with Cas' own. "Here's to many more heated…passionate sessions in my car. And my bed. And your bed. And various rooms in the bunker."

"With toys?" Cas seemed hopeful although his eyes shone from humor. "Fluffy handcuffs, whilst I tickle you between your legs with a feather?"

Ah, it was such a compelling topic. "Go on," Dean smiled.

"I'd love to try a vibrator on you. Watch you squirm whilst those green eyes shine in the dark. Or maybe we can try what's it called?" Cas squinted and considered the sky for two beats, "…6 to 9? Sixty-nine? Blowing each other's minds? No pun intended?"

"And you kiss me with the same mouth," Dean stared, stunned at his love.

The angel hummed in agreement. Deep inside, he was settling into a world where nothing else felt significantly threatening anymore. "Let's try the other rides?" Cas winked, slid off of the hood of the car and sucked the last bit of beer from the bottle. "I'm really interested in the Fortune Teller."

Ten minutes later and Dean found himself pushed into the red and blue striped tent that smelled strongly of jasmine, and rosemary. The flaps serving as the entrance moved lightly in the wind, creating a haunting effect. The grass was covered in a soft red carpet. And inside, seated at a round wooden table was a very thin woman with a wild head of red curly hair.

"Sit, sit," she urged him with her chocolate eyes swirling from curiosity. She had an aura that gave away a calmness that was almost too hypnotic. "The other man, your lover, yes?"

"Uh," Dean stumbled into the tent and lowered himself onto the chair. Cas was merely a few feet away. "Yeah?" he managed to serve as a reply. "How did you…"

"Your auras," Florence said waving it off and holding out her hands, palms facing upwards. "Your love is very strong. Now. Place hands on mine."

Dean complied hesitantly at first and as he watched Florence's eyes flutter close, he wondered if she was fully human or one of the monsters they hunted. Maybe she was a witch. But he couldn't determine what she was exactly. Until she rested her palms on her crystal ball and the swirling mist began to melt into several colors. And then the weirdest thing happened. It was almost as if she could really see into Dean's soul.

"Suffering," Florence said staring at him with a listless look, "in your childhood. Abuse that left you traumatized with low self-esteem. There was a boy that your father disapproved of. He was very hard on you, your father. He didn't believe in you and pushed you to be a man because of what happened with you and this boy."

Dean swallowed hard and stared.

Shit. He was scared shitless because she could only be referring to one boy he could and always would remember. After all these years, the memories of him sitting next to the scrawny kid with blue eyes in front of the sofa whilst Sam slept in the other room. Feeling flushed and bashful and then their awkward kiss. Because he had been kissed for the first time…by a boy…and he felt…like his world was on fire and he had shed all his skin. And then his father came barging in, all bloody and furious and…

"You ran away," Florence said softly. "You've been running away from who you are for many years. And then you met your true love. Your lover. You pushed him away for a long time and grew angrier and angrier and then now…you are with each other. I see…" the ball swirled brighter and she seemed to shiver from a chill, "you are going to ask him to marry you very, very soon. He will give you an answer that is both promising and very sad at the same time. And you will have to give up everything that is you to become everything that is his."

Dean could literally feel his heart sitting still in his chest. Waiting. He was holding his breath and he was pondering on whatever she had revealed to him. And although he had always been skeptical of fortune tellers, Dean began to feel terribly nauseated by the weight of Florence's predictions.

"Kids…" Dean whispered, hoping that he wasn't intruding. "What about kids?"

"Yes," Florence said smiling, nodding in approval, "four kids. Two pets and then…"

"Four kids?" he gasped, completely convinced now that she was bonkers. "That's not what we planned for…like at all."

"Most times, what we plan for does not happen, no? The best things happen instead of what we constrict ourselves to. It is like fitting yourself in a box, yes?" she smiled at him. "You cannot stretch and grow if you stay in the box. So you open the box and grow out of it."

He waited. He held his breath. Dean waited and then Florence sighed. She opened her eyes and smiled at him.

"And then?" he urged her, looking alarmed. "What happens next? Please don't tell me I'll lose him. Will something bad happen?"

"No," Florence said shaking her head. "No, my dear. Ask him about the choice he will make. I will not tell it to you, no. But the choice he will make will be the best choice for you both."

When Dean stumbled out of the tent and into Cas' arms, he stared at the angel for a while. The crowds around them grew heavier and the music from the games daunting and still, none of it mattered. He was there. All of him. Everything that ever mattered to Dean was standing right in front of him, Cas' chest heaving and those blue eyes wide and like two windows to his thoughts. And everything that resembled the most comforting home the hunter had ever lived in, was captured in Cas' eyes.

After walking away whilst holding onto each other, Dean swallowed hard. "She said we'll have four kids," he said, feeling Cas melt into his side. "I mean, isn't that more than a handful?"

"Providing that the universe gives us what we can manage," Cas said softly, "I really do not think that it will be that challenging." Wounding his arm around Dean's waist, he nestled his face into the crook of the other man's neck.

"And you'll make a choice?" Dean still couldn't sway away from those words. "What was that about?"

For a while, Cas said nothing. Instead, he allowed the hunter to walk him up to the games. Even after winning Cas a white, fluffy stuffed cat, the angel still did not give into divulging more information. And whilst they were both wandering around the carnival in search of Sam and Mala, Dean sighed.

Cas immediately felt the weight of the other man's doubts. "I'll become human, Dean," he said quietly, the stuffed animal tucked in between his arms. "That's the choice I'll make. And like always, I'll do it all for you."

"But I don't want you to do that," Dean said stiffly. They stopped and he wrapped his fingers comfortably around Cas' neck, their eyes connected. "I don't want you to lose your mojo. I don't care if you're an angel, Cas."

"I want to grow old with you," and when Cas said it, his voice trembled. "Dean, I don't want to eventually lose you and then I'll have to spend millions of years without you. I would rather…" he tried to smile, "…become a human, and age as you do. Wrinkles and grey hair. Two…grumpy old men with four kids and an Impala."

"Will it be painful to lose your wings?" Dean cringed from the thought. "Because Sam said—"

"Nothing will be more painful than spending those millions of years burning away without you by my side," Cas said without skipping a beat. "But let's not speak of death right now. Right now, I would like you to win me as much stuffed animals as you can."

Blinking into blue eyes, Dean waited a few second whilst his thoughts settled. Then he smiled. "Alright," he finally said softly, linking their arms together. "But none of them are getting onto my bed. And that's a rule I wouldn't allow you to break."

"Or else what?" Cas teased, and the two of them walked off smiling.


	32. Engaged

A/N - This is the last chapter! I'll work on an epilogue. But thank you so much for going through this journey with me from start to finish! I love you all so much. When I began this story, I was dying inside from when Cas walked out on Dean and I had to sit down and expel my feelings. Then I gained friends from this fic. I fell in love and I got my heart broken too. Now, I'm right here with you guys and I appreciate you being here with me too.

xxxx

xxxx

Three weeks later and Cas was driving his newly acquired blue sedan down the highway with his windows rolled down. It was close to five o'clock and the weather was perfectly serene. The sky was dusted with an orange and pink that reminded him of an assortment of candy only found in a certain part of Jamaica. The song 'Wild Roses' by Of Monsters and Men seemed to capture him in a nostalgic moment, one that reminded him of Dean.

Most songs reminded him of Dean. The long winding highway reminded him of Journey's song 'Faithfully' and although they had always been meeting each other halfway over the years, now it felt as if he had melted into Dean's existence. Funny enough though, it wasn't completely physical, but it was more like watching a teabag sink into boiling water and the golden color swirl around until the opaqueness was completely overwhelmed. Their love was the teabag in the analogy. The boiling water was the wars and the universe and the chaos.

Now, he briefly checked his phone and wondered why Sam had called so late for help on a hunt on a Sunday evening when Cas was almost prepared to drown in movies on TCM. He had on his favorite pjs; covered in a pattern of yellow bees when the younger Winchester had called. There was a bowl of popcorn resting on the sofa in the den. And now, he was dressed in a soft long-sleeved navy-blue shirt, a pair of black jeans and Dean's black leather jacket that he never really wore anymore.

Now he was headed to a small town called Hope in Texas and all he was asked to bring was himself. Why though? Why had a case involving a nest of werewolves become so difficult that the Winchesters felt the need to uproot him from his TCM marathon? On a Sunday night? And now, after nosing the sedan into the town that was dimly lit, he forgot what the name of the place was that they had asked him to meet them at.

"The Loft", Sam said into the phone after two rings, "come down Main, drive all the way until you see a funny looking bright yellow post office, and make a left. Then you'll see the bar. It's the only blue flat building with Baby parked out front."

Finding the car was easy enough. But as Cas walked into a place that briefly reminded him of a café and a bar giving birth to this establishment, he frowned. The inside walls were made of thick mahogany, and pictures hung displayed famous country singers including The Dixie Chicks and Lady Antebellum. The layout was shaped like a U, with booths around and an island serving as a bar in the middle and for a Sunday, just a few people were gathered for drinks.

But the most surprising element of the entire setting apart from a dashing looking Dean and a tired Sam, was the presence of three other faces. Claire sat with her chin propped up on her palm, Jody beamed at him with all the love and warmth and then there was…

"Jack?" Cas was so stunned, he almost thought he was hallucinating for a moment.

Stiffly unfolding himself from the table, the young man who he had loved, claimed as his son, and lost tragically, enveloped him into a hug that he never wanted to end. And for the first time in a long time, Cas felt as if he was really being dealt the best cards in the deck. Like everything was fitting together in his life and just from the look of utter love on Dean's face, he knew that the hunter felt the same. This wasn't just a big win; it was a phenomenal gift.

"Claire and I were working this case not too far from here," Jody was explaining, whilst Dean left to grab Cas something to drink, "and I'm talking, a pack of rabid werewolves like nothing you've seen before. Then after the boys showed up," she jerked her chin at Sam, "we found the entire pack, like fifteen of them dead –"

"I was thinking that it was weird as hell," Sam butted in.

"But then, we ran into this one here," Jody smiled at Jack, "who as Claire said and I quote 'could wave his hand like Harry Potter and wipe out a city if he wanted to'. And for most of it, he saved us some good drama."

Dean came back, slid into the booth and handed a ginger ale over to Cas. Their eyes lingered on one another. Jack noticed the change in their demeanor and the lack of tension and he frowned.

"Are you two finally a couple?"

After the question, Sam snorted, Claire smirked with her arms folded, Jody shook her head smiling and Dean…well his cheeks were flushed.

"Yes, we are," Cas said in his gravelly voice. "Jack, how are you back on earth?"

"Billie brought me back," he said simply, his face revealing nothing but innocence as usual. "She rescued me from the Empty and gave me a mission." But then he smiled widely. "To take down the bad guys."

"More or less what we've been doing for ages," Dean scrubbed at his cheeks as if trying to wipe away the color. He avoided eye contact with Cas and the hand that gripped his beer was a bit unsteady. "Seems like Billie is using Jack as some kind of a superhero to destroy rabid monsters. Kind of like her new and improved Oliver Queen equipped with a list and all."

Claire sniggered from her corner of the booth. "More like The Chosen One." Everyone glanced at her and Jack frowned deeply, not quite getting the reference.

"So," Sam cleared his throat, moving his beer bottle around in a small circle, "he's become her puppet."

"No, she doesn't control me," Jack's forehead creased, "she just tells me when and where they are and I'm left to do whatever it is that I must do."

Cas was completely worried by this. He hadn't even touched his ginger ale. "How long have you been back on earth?"

"A week," Jack said, then he rapidly shook his head. "So, why did it take you two so long?" Glancing from Dean to the angel, he seemed confused. "When you died, Dean was devastated. And the reason why I brought you back was because of how much he seemed to love you. So why did it take so long for you to become a couple?"

"Some things take time, honey," Jody lightly patted him on his back, offering Dean a sympathetic look from across the table. "Wasn't easy for either of them to get here, but they figured it out."

"Well I'm glad," Jack smiled and folded his arms. He sat back, and appeared quite similar to Claire who was sitting in the same attitude.

Throughout the evening though, apart from the questions swirling around about Jack's manipulations by Billie and his week of absence, Cas wondered why Dean was avoiding eye contact. It really wasn't like him to stare at his bottle of beer for such a prolonged period. Neither was it normal for Dean to glance away as soon as he felt Cas' eyes on him. And the more the time progressed without the two of them looking at each other, Cas' worry grew.

He wasn't quite sure whether something had happened between them. The last time they had talked, everything had been fine. Dean had been on the road for two days, and had called that morning to ask Cas if had a good night's sleep, knowing fully well that the angel never didn't sleep at all. And after their usual banter about whether Cas had binged on Netflix or transferred any stuffed animals onto the hunter's bed, they both ended off with affectionate words.

Now though, Dean was distant. He wasn't contributing to the conversations going around the table continuously and the only other person who seemed to notice was Jody. Sam and Claire were involved in a heated discussion about hybrid monsters breeding in Illinois whilst Jack studied them with his usual intriguing look.

"Looking tired there, Dean," Jody said with a smile, appearing quite motherly in her denim jacket, black and red floral top and faded blue jeans. "Did you pull an all nighter or what?"

"Couldn't sleep," was all Dean said with a shrug.

Cas' heart was aching. "And I specifically told you last night to get some rest."

"Yeah, well I've had a lot on my mind."

"The case," Cas said studying Dean's countenance carefully.

The hunter sighed. "And then some. Had me up for a while. I'll be good as new though. No worries."

"Anyway, so we should be heading out now," Jody pushed herself up and gestured at Claire who lazily stretched and grabbed her bag. "Missy has an exam tomorrow that she cannot and will not miss or fail."

"Finals," Claire explained to Cas as she slid out of the booth and he hugged her. "And yeah, I'm still doing the college thingee. I figured that I'd try to balance hunting with studying. And so far, it's working out alright."

"That's good," Cas pressed a kiss onto her forehead and smiled. "When will I see you again?"

Claire threw a glance at Dean. The two of them exchanged smiles and she fist bumped him. "Soon," she said to both of them. "And don't worry. Everything between Dean and I are sorted out."

"Water under the bridge," the older Winchester waved it off as insubstantial.

Claire winked at him and something passed between them. "Would love to spend a week during summer with my two dads who wouldn't hound me for not wearing makeup or not wearing girly clothes…"

"Hey watch your mouth!" Jody tugged on her arm.

"Goodbye, Claire," Jack said smiling widely.

She smiled back warmly and winked. "Bye bro. Next time we meet up, we'll exchange hunting skills. I'll teach you how to use knives and weapons and how to fight."

"I'd like that," Jack said simply.

After they had left, most of what transpired throughout the conversation was how Billie had managed to complete her plan to yank Jack out of the Empty. Her intentions seemed to be justified since what Jack had been doing was simply hunting, something they all had been doing for years. But to Dean, he expressed concern over the notion that Billie seemed to be using Jack as her slave to do her dirty work. He was still a kid. He was powerful, no doubt about that, but what were her motives?

Within the week of Jack's return, he had tackled more than his share of hunts. And in each and every instance, the threat to the community was higher. Had he not done exactly what was required of him, then whatever the monsters had been planning would have ended the lives of more than enough civilians. And although Dean seemed to be quite intrigued by the plot revealed by Jack, he was still far from focused.

After they left that night and headed to the motel, Cas rode up front and couldn't shake the awful feeling he had buried inside of his chest. It reached a point where he couldn't take his eyes off of Dean whilst the other man drove them down the streets. He couldn't just sit there and pretend that what was bubbling up inside of him felt like everything was okay. Because it wasn't. And he couldn't come right out and ask Dean what it was in front of the other two because he had a feeling that Dean's thoughts were private.

So, when Jack and Sam left the car and headed into the room, the taller Winchester throwing a sheepish look over his shoulder, Dean got out. He went around to the back, popped the trunk and began pawing through his duffel bag. Cas pushed his door open, and stepped into the cool of the night with a heavy heart. Nothing was wrong, he told himself. Nothing could be wrong between them because for the past few weeks, everything had been so blissful.

He decided that eventually, they would have to address the elephant in the room and rounding the car, he invaded Dean's space.

The hunter at first acknowledged Cas' lingering presence and remained silent.

"Dean," Cas' voice was low. The wind bit his cheeks. "Is everything alright?"

"I'm fine," the hunter said barely glancing at the other man. "You head on inside. Be there in a minute."

"You don't seem…fine."

Dean, huffing out a sigh, closed the trunk and stood up. He heaved his duffel bag into Cas' arms and the angel hugged the other man's belongings with a frown. Their eyes met and inside green ones was the kind of look that suggested uncertainty. And was that…nervousness? Perhaps he was reading the light in Dean's eyes wrong.

"Room 4B," Dean said handing over the key with a small blue tag. When their fingers brushed, the hunter's chest trembled. "Um," he swallowed and smiled, "I need to check something under the hood. Heard a funny rattling sound early."

"I…didn't hear anything –" Cas was frowning.

"Look," pinching the bridge of his nose, the other man chuckled, "just let me check. I'll be quick. And then we'll talk and –"

"Dean," Cas said, pleading with his eyes. His heart was beating wildly in his chest. "What's wrong? Did I do something?"

The hunter's lips twitched into that small smile again. "Of course not. We're fine. I'm just tired, is all. Go on in. Meet you there soon."

Cas, still not convinced that Dean's words were reflective of his state of mind, defeatedly walked towards the motel. Hugging the bag, he found the room easily and heard Sam's laughter erupting from behind 4A. So much for trying to not keep secrets from each other because it appeared as if Dean wasn't ready to reveal to him what his worries were. Nevertheless, he pushed the key in, still feeling like there were cracks inside his chest and he opened the door.

At first, when Cas flipped on the light, he was unsure of whether the setting before him was an illusion or he was stepping into reality. And his small gasp filled the silence immediately, his heart swelling, and his eyes widening from the surprise that couldn't quite be processed all at once.

It was a simple room, like all the others they had stayed in but this one had one king sized bed, a small kitchen area and a table with two chairs. But from the doorway, right in front of his shoes to the table, covered in a blue and green patterned cloth, rose petals were scattered abundantly on the polished brown floor. And in the midst of the petals were little squares of paper at intervals.

Cas, with his trembling fingers pressed to his lips, his chest swelling from love, took tentative steps through the romantic setting and he stooped to pluck up the first note. His hands were trembling. He was on the verge of losing his composure.

Scribbled on the paper in Dean's handwriting was:

_No, I'm not mad. Nothing is wrong between us. Want to know why I'm so quiet?_

Smiling, Cas bit his lips, and he went towards the next note, realizing that the flower petals were fresh and scented and the entire room smelled like the Heaven in his heart. Every step felt like a small bomb exploding in his mind. In his chest. Because he couldn't remain calm at all. Not when Dean had obviously gone out of his way to create all of this.

_I'm nervous…as hell right now, still standing by my car. Hoping I'm doing this the right way…_

Doing what the right way? Cas was losing his mind. He was collecting the notes and tucking them into the pocket of his black leather jacket as if they were the most precious jewels. The third note wasn't so far away, and glancing at the table, he felt tears burn his eyes when the bottle of red wine and two glasses decorated the surface. And for the first time since they had been together, Dean had finally decided to go all mushy and vintage and sensually romantic on him.

_Cas, it's almost eleven years since we first met. And I'm eleven times more in love with you…_

The last note was just an inch away from the foot of the chair by the table. And he didn't quite notice the soft footstep behind him as he stooped to pick it up. Cas was so overwhelmed by the emotions swirling inside his heart and his mind that he wasn't aware of anything else. And when he read the final note, perhaps his entire world seemed to tilt on its axis.

_Turn around, Cas. _

Those three simple words held so much power over him, the angel felt as if his heart was ignited by a million bursts of fireworks.. He was consumed by so much anxiety all of a sudden, his hands were shaking. His knees were weak and his head was spinning because he could suddenly feel Dean behind him. And because his senses had been tampered with and now awakened, the other man's presence hit him like a freight train. But for a few seconds, he just weakly rose up, and stood there, his chest heaving, his lips parted and Cas couldn't quite fathom the outcome of what was happening to him.

His mind was trying to convince him that this was the most romantic thing Dean had ever done. That would be followed by glasses of wine and a beautiful conversation. But when he turned around and found the hunter on the floor on one knee, he staggered back a step and his hands clamped onto his mouth, barely suppressing the gasp that escaped from within him.

Dean was smiling, and he swallowed hard and from his right hand he produced that same red velvet covered box. "Cas," he said as his voice trembled. Opening the box, he revealed the one thing that seemed to bring tears to the other man's eyes. It was a simple gold band that was beautiful and real.

"Dean," the angel couldn't breathe, realizing that this was the moment he had waited forever on. The moment that he had concocted so many scenarios on how everything would play out. But this…This was beyond what he had ever expected.

"Darling, will you…marry me?" Dean asked as his voice shook. A tear slipped from his right eye and he was smiling. He seemed to be captured in a ball of nervousness and happiness. And nothing could stop him. Nothing at all.

Cas was crying, tears slipping down his face and he just couldn't control his lungs anymore. He was suffocating. His heart was racing so wildly that the feeling was painful and yet so exhilarating. And nodding before he could even produce an answer, the angel released his hands from his trembling lips and he tried to smile.

"Yes," he managed to say in a small whisper. "A million…times…yes. Dean –"

The hunter stood up, trying to gain composure and plucking the ring from the box, he softly collected Cas' left hand. Then with their eyes connected, he found the other man's fourth finger and he slipped the ring on as Cas gazed at him. As Cas melted and he melted with him.

"I love you," Dean whispered back, his lips quivering too. He collected the angel's face between his hands and used his thumbs to wipe the tears away slowly. "For as long as I'm allowed to. I'll love you."

"I love you too," Cas' face contorted from crying and slipping his hands around the hunter's warm waist, he pulled him close and he pressed their lips together.

Their kiss was slow and passionate and so blissful, that both of them moaned into each other's mouths. And then when they pulled away, breathless, someone cleared their throat by the doorway.

It was Sam. With a thoroughly delighted look upon his face, accompanied by Jack who was beaming.

"Just popped in to say congratulations and –"

"Finally!" Jack exclaimed, interrupting the taller Winchester. "Great kiss! Even better than in the movies."

"Congratulations on your engagement," Sam nodded bashfully, approaching his brother and hugging him proudly. And oh how he was so delighted. Dean had no idea how long his brother had awaited this moment. "For years," Sam finally said, pulling away and smiling. "I've been waiting on you two to wake up and realize that you're end game. But no, you had to drag it out so damn long. I guess everything happens in its own time, but damn. Eleven years is a bitch. You," he stretched out his arms and enveloped Cas into a warm hug.

Jack was hugging Dean and he didn't seem to want to let go. "I officially have two dads now. And a very tall brother."

Dean hugged him tighter and didn't want to let go. "You'll always have us, Jack. You'll always be like a son to me."

Sam sighed at Cas. "Told you everything would be alright in the end," he said to the angel. "Sure I've got a brother who can be a real jerk most times. And he was a real pain in the ass before things got better. But he came around. You're the best thing that has ever happened to him. And I'm glad that it's you and no one else."

"Can we stay for wine?" Jack asked innocently afterwards.

"Um, no," Sam said, taking a hold of his arm and tugging him towards the door. "Your two dads need to…talk."

"But we can all talk together," Jack wouldn't give up, holding onto the doorframe and pleading with Cas. "I've never tasted wine before."

"The kind of talk they're going to have…does not include us. And they must not at any time be interrupted. Because they're going to have a very important talk," Sam said quickly. "We'll all talk tomorrow. Have fun…talking," he said to both Cas and Dean with a wink and a wide smile.

"Well that was awkward," Dean said softly, his chest swelling as he turned back to the one person who had changed his life and smiled. "Are you still jittery? Because I'm still shaking. Look at my…hands."

Cas took the hunter's fingers between his and then he proudly displayed the gold band. "Look at my hand, Dean. You've just made me the luckiest man in the entire universe."

Melting from those honest words, the hunter wrapped his arms around Cas and pulled him into a tight embrace. "Really? I always thought that I'm the lucky one. But hey, I guess we're both lucky."

"Dean, I never…ever expected this, I…" Cas trembled when the other man buried his face into the crook of his shoulder and he could feel Dean's warm breath exciting his pores. "I thought up of a million ways you would propose to me but never like this."

"Did I do well?"

Their eyes met and the gaze that was enacted seemed to hold so much power, it was like nothing they had ever shared.

Cas blinked slowly, "this was exceptional."

"So, let's drink that bottle of wine, get totally wasted and then screw each other's brains out?" The light inside those green eyes were thoroughly mischievous.

"That sounds…wonderful," Cas said smiling widely. "Is it merlot?"

"The one and only," untangling himself from the angel, Dean's footfalls were muffled on the carpet as he went to the table. He poured them both a generous serving of red wine that looked like blood from the yellow light of the lamps. "Here," handing Cas a glass, he held up his with a look of certainty. "To us growing old together. Feels like the beginning to something beautiful."

Cas, after taking a sip and literally feeling the wine warm its way down his throat, nodded and inhaled deeply. "Cheers to that. Now can we skip to the part where we take our clothes off?"

"Can we talk first?" Dean's cheeks turned crimson as he sat at the table and felt completely like he was drowning in love. "Or at least…try to?"

"No."

"Come on, Cas," the hunter pleaded, jerking his chin at the chair on the other side. "There are a few things that I need to tell you. I'm feeling mushy and I'm in love and I think that you'll like what I have to say."

"In that case," lowering himself into a sitting position, Cas nodded, "you may proceed. But just know that I am allowed to interject with physical advances if the need arises."

Blinking at the other man, Dean shook his head, smiled and could literally feel his cheeks and neck growing warmer. "Um, can you stop coming onto me so hard right now?"

"Why?" Cas asked innocently. He sipped his wine, those blue eyes never leaving the hunter's face. "Am I making you uncomfortable, fiancé?"

"Wow," Dean's chest heaved when he felt overcome by the blissfulness of being referred to as such. "You're going to make this so hard for me, huh? To have a conversation with you that involves words and not just our bodies doing the talking. You do remember what happens to me when we get talking on certain…things, right?"

"It gets really…hard…for you to maintain composure –"

"Anywayyy," Dean swallowed and shifted uncomfortably on his seat. "I've been doing some thinking. Like for a while now and I was wondering…I mean, weddings…what are your thoughts…Cas, would you stop looking at me like that?"

"How am I looking at you?" Cas asked incredulously, smiling and obviously entertained.

Dean sighed. "Like you're undressing me. Just give me five minutes. Tops. Then I'm all yours."

Sighing, the angel sat back, folded his arms and nodded. "I apologize. Go on, you were telling me about weddings…"

"What do you think about weddings?" Dean collected his glass and took a sip.

"In what context? Generally, or in regards to us?"

"Us," Dean's throat was aching. He suddenly felt as if he had broached a subject that was too tender to be discussed so soon. And maybe it was too soon. But there were things that they needed to talk about and most of all, he wanted to do things. He wanted to get the ball rolling just in case life threw grenades at them; or Chuck showed up and decided to break the world apart.

Cas, on the other hand, seemed thoroughly contented with the topic, taking small sips of his wine. "Dean, it's fine. There's a look in your eyes that suggest hesitation in us having this discussion. And truthfully," resting his glass upon the table carefully, the angel licked his lips, "I really don't find a problem with us getting married. It's not like I would question spending the rest of my life with you and officiating that…legally. So relax."

Taking a deep breath, Dean nodded. He took the bottle and topped off their glasses. Then, sitting back, he smiled. "Do you like the ring?"

Holding his left hand up, fingers splayed, Cas chuckled lightly. His blue eyes sparkled. "Indeed. I do. How long have you had this ring in your possession?"

The wind rustled leaves outside and the blinds, a pale blue, fluttered lightly. Dean felt so nostalgic all of a sudden. He hugged himself. "My mom gave it to me." His eyes prickled from memories of Mary. "She…um," he swallowed and blinked quickly. "Well, before she died, she had a long talk with me…about you…well, us."

"Really?" Cas' eyes glistened with tears.

"Yeah, and she knew before I did, really. That I was in love with you. She could see it from the first time she met you and we hugged. And ever since then, she couldn't stop…nagging at me to embrace myself and my feelings and I always shut her out. Then one night, it was like she knew she wasn't going to be around long, and she came into the kitchen and gave me this look. Kind of freaked the hell out of me. Especially when she took her ring off and said…'when the time comes and I know it will, when you propose to him, you put this ring on his finger. And you put all of your love into it. Your mind, body and soul. And you love him until you stop breathing'."

Cas' chest heaved. He was staring at Dean, remarkably displaying no sign of a shaky composure.

"She knew, Cas," the hunter said softly. "She said that when dad gave her the ring, he promised that he would always look out for her. He'd always keep her safe. And now I'm making those same promises to you—"

"Dean—" Cas croaked.

"I'm going to love you and protect you. Keep you safe. Remind you each and every day how amazing you are and how lucky I am to have you. And every night before I fall asleep, I'm going to kiss you, and when you're mad at me, because I'll do some crappy things that make you mad…"

Cas laughed softly, shaking his head.

"I'll kiss all the bad things away. All of it," Dean promised as a smile pinched the corner of his eyes. "Here's to us," holding up his glass, he felt nothing fearful inside his chest. But love.

"To us," Cas clinked their glasses softly together and their fingers brushed. Those tiny sparks from their touch travelled through his hands and covered his heart in a soft blanket. And for a long time after they sipped their wines, their eyes lingered on each other until he couldn't control his desires anymore.

Cas rose up and after slowly prying the glass from the hunter's fingers, he laced their fingers together. Then Dean complied, unfolding and feeling overwhelmed, he allowed himself to be led towards the bed with its soft blue sheets. Covered with red rose petals and fluffy pillows. And after they both shrugged off their jackets and pulled off their shirts, Dean reached for Cas' belt and unbuckled it as fast as his fingers would allow. As fast as he worked, his thoughts were flying like darts. And Cas mirrored his actions until both of them were gloriously naked in the soft yellow light of the lamps.

"God, look at you," Dean purred, drinking in every contour on the other man's body. His slight hips. The way his biceps bulged and the veins in his arms traced outlines like rivers where his blood rushed, as red as rubies. "You're so perfect. Every inch of you."

"Right back at you," Cas grinned, closing the distance between them. He took the hunter by his waist and tugged him close until every breath that he took was beautifully contaminated by the soft scent of Irish Spring, and watermelons from Dean's shampoo and a hint of coffee.

And when they kissed, when their lips met, Cas tasted so much more than coffee. He drowned in warmth and a hint of whiskey and wine and merlot never tasted so good like the way it tasted on Dean's lips. Their tongues danced to a tune that was slow and passionate. And whilst his fingers ran pathways through Dean's hair, Cas unearthed a long and needy moan from the other man that was beautiful.

Making love to Dean was like holding the most precious thing in his life, in his arms, and knowing for certain that nothing else mattered. Nothing else could compare to the feel of Dean's taunt muscles in his arms. Or the muscles rippling beneath the soft skin on his back. Or the way his chest heaved uncontrollably when they kissed deeply and Cas touched his nipples. When Cas slipped his hand between the hunter's legs, and took Dean, already hard and hot between his fingers, he felt how their chemistry soared.

He had realized a long time ago that after the first kiss and after he touched Dean where he loved to explore using his mouth, the hunter melted like butter. Dean would hold him tenderly, rocking them slowly like a ship under the most beautiful night sky. Then as they rocked, he would bury his face into Cas' shoulder and he would simply…allow them to savor every inch of their connection. Their chests pressed together. How they fitted so perfectly. And when Dean finally was ready to move things along, Cas complied because he was always patient.

Now, they ended up on the bed, twisting the sheets and after Dean gave Cas a mind-shattering blowjob that drove him to crying out the hunter's name over and over again, they finally went one step further.

It was something that had been playing on Dean's mind from the beginning. Knowing that the fears and the fright had consumed him and because they had been allowed to crack from the pressure and then heal themselves again, nothing about them threatened him anymore.

In fact, he wanted to do anything with Cas. He wanted to explore and chase those feelings. Of reaching the edge and tethering on it, until he couldn't contain himself anymore. So now, when he pawed around in his bag on the floor for the bottle of lube Sam had given him for Christmas, a small smile played on his lips. Because his brother was probably celebrating next door. And just the thought of having the people who mattered to him being so supportive of him and Cas being together, Dean had developed all the confidence he needed.

Skillful wasn't the exact word he would have used to accommodate all of Cas' actions when it came to sex. Truth be told, Cas was a natural. He was gifted and maybe he had grown so familiar with Dean's body, the way he liked to be touched and the way he reacted from those touches, all the knowledge relaxed them both. Because Cas' touches weren't clumsy. His hands were steady as he manned the top, on his knees over Dean. And within those blue eyes were nothing but love and trust.

"Does it hurt?" Dean was trying to override his slight nervousness with humor.

"When I fell from Heaven?" Cas squeezed a small amount of lube onto his fingers and smiled warmly. "Of course it did."

"No," Dean rolled his eyes. "I mean…you know…"

Sighing, the angel pressed his lips together and lowering himself slowly, right hand captured between Dean's thighs, he teased him with a kiss. "Let's just say that you'll be begging for more."

"How—" Dean squeaked when Cas silenced him with a kiss so deep and passionate, his eyes fluttered close and his mind spun.

It was like he was rising into the air, away from the bed and drifting towards a place that was soft and warm and exhilarating. And even though he was conscious of Cas' finger entering him slowly, the entirety of the moment was blissful.

He had no idea why his mind had suddenly dissolved the walls around them. Then whilst they kissed, Dean felt like they were lying on the softest blanket in a field of lush grass that swayed in the wind. He could smell the grass as Cas sucked on his neck and their bodies writhed together. He could even hear the soft waves lapping onto the shore and could smell the salt and yet his eyes remained close because he was drowning in the moment. And when Dean felt Cas finally inch his cock into him, his body opened up in ways he had never imagined it could.

The feeling of connecting with the man he loved in such an intimate way, of feeling all of Cas inside of him eventually was painful but it wasn't so bad. In fact, he liked it in a way that he wasn't ready to admit out loud.

The glorification of feeling that bite of pain. Of feeling something so powerful, made him more alive than before. Made him conscious of his desire linked to a long time need to constantly remind himself that he could feel. That he could run a knife across his skin and draw blood and he could convince himself that he was in control of himself. And now as Cas stretched and thrust into him slowly, he gave over that control to the man who owned his heart.

"Faster," Dean's green eyes were suddenly on fire. He grabbed Cas' ass and pulled him down until the other man's cock was fully inside of him. Gasping, and wrapping his legs around the angel, he nodded. "Fuck me until I'm hoarse from calling out your name, Cas."

He didn't have to ask twice. Cas was breathless. It was obvious that he had been waiting so long to finally have Dean like that.

To make love to Dean until both of them soaked the sheets and beads of sweat ran down his back whilst he kept thrusting and panting. Cas unearthed sounds from Dean he had never heard before when they made love to each other. Sounds that were contained in long, pleading moans until Dean was squirming under him, arching his back and biting his lips. And his fingernails dug into Cas' back whilst he felt himself ignite inside. Whilst he not only tethered on the edge but began to lose his mind.

It was like nothing Dean had ever felt. The pain, and pleasure intermingled together, the way Cas kept going and kept finding the right spot inside of him to run his throat dry from gasping. Eventually, Dean lost himself somewhere that seemed to stop time. His entire body was consumed inside a net of new sensations that rippled through him from his spinning mind to his pointed toes and everywhere in between. And sure, Cas had given him the best blowjobs before, but something inside of him was for the first time awakened and he wasn't just on fire, he was so much alive.

"Come for me," Cas breathed through his lips and into Dean's parted ones. Those green eyes were wide and ignited. "Dean," his gravelly voice cracked a little. "I'm so…close."

When Cas came inside of him, buried deep into his ass, and convulsing in his arms, Dean followed seconds after. But it wasn't like any other orgasm.

This time, he lost his freaking mind as waves of pleasure rippled through his veins and had him writhing under Cas who was groaning into Dean's shoulder. Both of them tried to bury their hoarse screams into each other's sweat soaked skin but it was too much.

It reached a point where the hunter was so breathless and so weak, and he still kept releasing himself between them, that Cas held onto him and wouldn't let go. And whilst their lungs were emptied and burned from an absence of air, Dean's eyes flew open and he stared at the ceiling.

"Cas," he whispered, his chest heaving uncontrollably, hugging the angel in his arms.

"Dean," the other man said into the hunter's shoulder, his teeth grazing soft skin.

For a long time after, whilst they tried to catch their breath, neither of them said a word. The sky burst outside and the rains came down, thundering onto the roof. The blinds flapped wildly and the bright full moon suddenly looked like a white smudge through the haze of the rain. And still they remained as they were.

Still Dean savored the feel of Cas still inside of him. Of knowing that when they were connected in such an intimate way, it was reassuring to him, knowing that he could be so close to someone. That he could have someone who loved him without limits.

When they finally ended up pulling apart, Dean used the sheet to clean them up and balling it into a sweat soaked heap, he tossed it off the bed. They were too weak to even take a shower. He barely managed to reach for the bottle of water by his bedside to wet his parched throat. And then they simply lay there in each other's arms, remembering what they had shared in one night. Remembering how the journey had been long and painful but deserving and beautiful and now…

Now Dean felt like he could be anywhere in the world and once he had Cas in his arms, he felt like he was home.

And Cas…

Dean kissed him like he had promised. He kissed him long and deep until Cas softened in his arms. And then…

Cas drifted into a deep sleep. Something that was completely out of sorts for an angel such as himself. But maybe he didn't have to fall and lose his wings to become human. Maybe loving Dean was all he needed to become human. And as the hunter watched Cas sleep in his arms, he smiled because he didn't want Cas to lose his wings. Not ever. He had fallen in love with Cas most of all because he was celestial. Because he was beautiful and magnificent. Because when his eyes glowed, he looked so damn sexy and his wings…

Dean felt those wings wrap around him suddenly and because the feel of those soft feathers blocked the cold bite of the wind away, he fell asleep in seconds.

xxx

**Did you enjoy the journey? Stay tuned for the epilogue. In the mean time, tell me what you loved the most about this fic.**


	33. Epilogue

"Okay, goddammit!" Sam's outburst stunned the few guests who were already seated, "everyone, be quiet. Stay quiet. Where's Jack?"

The room became as silent as the grave as under the gazebo grew cooler from the breeze drifting into the open space. Somewhere at the back, Claire scuffled with someone, and then she pushed Jack forward, grinning.

"I'm…here", he said, standing up straight, dressed in a black tuxedo and bearing the rings captured in two velvet boxes on each palm with a wide smile.

"Good. Fine," Sam seemed so flustered, he did a double twirl around on the spot, and then darted through the flaps of blue and green curtains that were held together with gold sashes on the right side of the gazebo.

It was a job well done, in fact, one that had been spearheaded by Sam, Alex, Jody, Donna, and hesitantly Claire. The five of them had demanded that Cas and Dean stick to making choices on colors and flavors but everything else was put together by their expert hands.

From the beautiful arch guiding guests into the gazebo made of blue, green and gold balloons and woven together with gold ribbons. To the rows of chairs decorated in white with blue and green bows tied to the backs. Then there was the buffet consisting of peanut butter sandwiches and burgers. The fine Merlot. The cases of beer. And the main attraction, the Impala with a blue bow pinned on her nose and a green bow tied onto her trunk.

Everything was perfect thus far. The location was perfect right by a refreshing lake, surrounded by trees that swayed and leaves that rustled creating a nostalgic setting. And now, to try and calm his nerves, Sam inhaled deeply.

Just then, as he was drinking in the fresh air, Mala jogged towards him, dressed in a pretty white gown and a pair of black sneakers. On her face registered distress. And immediately, Sam removed himself from bracing on the post of the gazebo and he searched her brown eyes.

"Cas is ready," Mala said, out of breath. She clutched his shoulder and tried to regain her composure. "In fact, Cas is so ready, he's memorized his vows and everything. But your brother…"

Sam was worried now. The rumble of voices inside the gazebo climbed a little and then Jack shushed everyone. There was laughter that followed. "What's wrong with Dean now?"

"Well, he's locked himself in the guest room at the back of the Inn. Cas kept trying to get to him but he wouldn't open the door. Even I tried but he keeps asking for you."

"Shit," instantly, Sam took a hold of Mala's hand and both of them pelted towards the small building that was more of a cottage really than the likes of a small hotel.

By the time the two of them arrived by the door, Cas was pacing the patio, arms folded and a look of utter fear in his blue eyes. Although he looked dashing in his black tuxedo and blue shirt, his face spoke volumes.

He wasn't just terribly afraid. He was also panicking. And Cas never panicked. Not in the eleven years or more Sam had known him. When in doubt, Cas always found control and rode it. But now, he pleaded with Sam to aid the situation. To somehow force his way into the room where Dean was and to fix whatever it was that was going wrong.

"Has he said anything to you?" Sam asked softly, moving towards the door and knocking softly.

Cas gulped, shook his head and sighed. "The last time I saw Dean was yesterday before he went out into the town to enjoy his last night as a single man. Now I'm hoping that he doesn't have second thoughts because—"

"No way, Cas", Sam chuckled and patted his best friend's shoulder. "All he kept talking about even when he was high last night was you. Marrying you and everything else. Maybe it's just nerves."

Mala took a hold of Sam's right arm, tugged on it and jerked her chin at the door. "We've got to fix this now. People are waiting, remember?"

"Right." Composing himself, and standing up as stiff as a poker, Sam knocked twice. He waited, listened. "Dean? It's me, Sam. Let me in. Before I force my way in. And you know that I can break down this damn door if I—" he stopped when the lock clicked.

Slowly, the door inched open, welcoming him to enter. So, he did. But not before offering both Cas and Mala a look of uncertainty before disappearing into the depths of the unknown.

Sam found Dean standing in front of the window overlooking the gazebo. He was already dressed which was a good thing. If there was one person who could look damn good in a black suit, it was his brother. Sam never challenged that. Ever. And now, more than before, Dean looked fine as hell.

"What's wrong with you?" Sam thumped his brother affectionately on his back. "Huh? The best day of your life and you're locking yourself away? From Cas too?"

"I can't do it, Sammy," Dean said, hugging himself and staring out the window. The branches on the trees just beyond the window swayed in the light wind. "I can't."

"What do you mean, you can't do it?" No. Not now. Sam was beginning to lose his shit when he had been preparing for days alongside the rest of the gang to ensure that everything was perfect enough for his brother's big day. "Dude, this is your big win. You've wanted this for ages now."

Dean's chest heaved. He allowed his arms to fall to his sides. "But what if I screw up, Sammy? Huh? What if I go out there and then I can't even remember my vows? What if I embarrass myself in front of everyone?"

"I've actually tucked a copy of it in my pocket," Sam fished the folded paper from his breast pocket with a smile. Dean stared at him with wild admiration. "Come on, man. You know that I've got you. I've got your back."

"I'm nervous, Sam," Dean laughed, shaking his head. "Dammit, my hands are shaking. Look." He held out his splayed fingers and the younger Winchester smiled from understanding. "Suppose I forget where to stand or what to do or what to say?"

"Like I said…" Sam offered a look of confidence, "I've got you. Besides, when you get out there and you look at Cas, you're not going to be nervous anymore. The two of you might end up giggling like two fools. Cas is so worried about you, man. He's out there, shaking like a leaf just as you are. And he needs you the most right now. He needs to know that you're not having second thoughts about this. That you're not going to bail on him."

"I'm not going to…" Dean stared at his brother and then his green eyes flicked to the door. "Is that what he thinks? That I'm having second thoughts?"

"Yup," Sam shrugged.

"Even though we've just basically finalized adopting Delilah and Cindy? They're moving in with us in a week and he really thinks that I'm having second thoughts?"

"Well, it happens to the best of us, especially since you've locked yourself in here and refuses to talk to him. Come on, man. Let's get this over with. It's going on to 4 and people are getting flustered."

"Then let them wait, dammit," Dean squared his shoulder, fists clenched and he strode towards the door. Pulling it open, when he came face to face with Cas who sent him a bewildered look, Dean stepped back, and was stunned. The other man was neatly dressed, and smelled so damn good. "Wow," he gave Cas full scrutiny from head to toe and swallowed. "Just…"

"Dean, are you alright?" the angel asked, wringing his hands.

"I am now," the hunter admitted, his lips twitching into a small smile. "Dammit, Cas. You look…gorgeous, handsome, sexy, dashing, beautiful, perfect—"

"Can we move things along?" Mala asked, arms folded and shoes tapping impatiently. "The two of you can call each other all kinds of names later on when you're in bed."

"Just when I thought I liked you a lot," Dean smiled at her and then the four of them hurried towards the light music playing under the gazebo.

It was simply beautiful.

To finally feel the sort of comfortableness in being in the moment. In knowing that thus far, they had been through a journey that had provided so many ups and downs. Yet in between the wars and the hunting and losing each other, they had finally made it there.

In a moment that encompassed so much of love in Jody's eyes and admiration in Donna's face. Or the way Jack looked at Dean like he was the best father in the world. The way Claire gazed at Cas and couldn't help being overwhelmed by finally being adopted by the man she had always known to be her father. Dean was also the one person she loved and relied on the most and because of his disapproval of her girlfriend, she had felt hurt more than what she felt from Donna and Jody.

Now they were all a family.

She couldn't ignore the excitement rushing through her body after remembering the papers Dean and Cas has presented her with. Even though she was above the age of eighteen and didn't need to be adopted, the two of them had gone out of their way to 'claim' her as their daughter. They had said so many nice things to her that night. About how she was so kind and brave and so grown up already. They admired her willpower and wanted her to live with them in the bunker. And she had treasured those papers with their signatures at the bottom. It made her feel like she was finally belonged not just to Donna and Jody, but to Dean and Cas.

And Jack…

Well he was constantly pestering Claire with questions about hunting. Oftentimes she considered him to be the little brother she never truly had.

After offering their 'I do's', the only sound that filled the space was the wind gently brushing leaves and kissing the blinds.

Dean was exhilarated when he turned to face Cas and he gazed into those ocean eyes. The kind of eyes that drowned him. That tugged him into a place of comfort and love and the definition of home. And Cas…when Cas gazed at Dean, he melted over and over again.

"I remember the first time I met you," Dean was saying, his voice trembling but he never diverted his gaze. "I was…really and truly lost and then when you told me that you're the one who saved me, and you're an angel, I was like…what's this guy's deal?" there was laughter from a few people. "You became my best friend. I never had a best friend really. Never understood why Sam always found the need to rely on someone until I met you. Cas, over the years, you've saved me countless times. You've always come to me when I called you, even when I was being stubborn and completely useless…"

Cas laughed softly, and he reached out, took Dean's hands between his and bit his lips.

Immediately, the hunter gained enough composure to release his nerves. He felt calmer. "It took me ten years to admit to myself that I had always been in love with you. That when you risked your life for me and I was angry with you, I chose to hide behind the truth instead of accepting. All these years I always thought that I would never be standing here with someone, ready to give myself over to them forever. And here I am, ready to do that with you. Some people might say that I'm a lucky bastard because I'm getting to marry my best friend. But I call it fate. I've always known that we would be together forever. I've just never thought that we would fall in love along the way."

Sam was ugly crying in the back row. Claire nudged his shoulder and asked him to man up. He scowled at her.

"And lastly, I…" Dean gazed at their fingers entwined, "It is said that love makes the impossible possible. And I know that is true because it is impossible that an angel like you could come into my life and it is only love that makes it true. I want you to know that whenever you feel like you're not enough, that I think that you're enough. And I'm going to spend the rest of my life proving to you that you're enough. I love you, Cas," he was breathless when his cupped fingers caressed the angel's jawline.

Then slowly and with certainty, Dean plucked the ring from the box in Jack's grasp and he slipped it on Cas' finger. The room was so quiet, he wished his mother was there to witness the best moment of his life. He wished that she could finally get to see what she had really wanted. What she had predicted would happen.

When it was Cas' turn to read his vows, he couldn't help it. In fact, when Jody had bet Donna that Dean would be the one who would shed the tears, she now owed her wife a good chunk of money. Because Cas stumbled at first on his vows. Tears leaked out of his blue eyes and plopped onto his black jacket. But Dean steadied him. Dean kept their fingers entwined, rested their foreheads together and he smiled.

"I'm right here," he whispered so no one could hear. The warmth of his breath kissed the other man's lips. "Make everything else disappear and focus on me. I'm the one who needs to hear you. Not them. So tell me what you want to, Cas."

Nodding and smiling as Dean wiped away his tears with his thumb, Cas inhaled deeply. "I love you…with every beat of my heart. Every…breath in my body and my every thought and deed. I am…the luckiest man alive. Because you are the bravest, most hilarious, spectacular man anybody could ask for and here I am, asking if you'll be my husband. Aristotle once said 'love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies' and we search all our lives for that soul that is our other half. With you, I have found my other half, the one person who completes me."

Dean reached up and brushed a tear away from his cheek. He nodded, losing his breath. Sam had sunk down against the wall and his eyes were shining. Claire gave him a look of pity.

"I give you all that I am and pray that you take me as I am and will teach me every day to love you. I promise that throughout our years together, I will be true to you. I give you this ring…" Cas reached for Dean's left hand and held his gaze, "with the promise that I will be the best husband, man and father to our children as best as I can be with trust, love and devotion. I love you not only for what you are, but for what you make me. Complete. And the best version of myself."

Sam stood up, unfolded himself, eyes brimming with tears and he collected Claire in his arms, hugging onto her like an anchor.

"I now pronounce you as married," the familiar face of Garth beamed at the two of them. "You may kiss each other Mister and Mister Winchester."

Dean immediately tugged Cas into him by the waist and kissed him long and deep. Their hearts fluttered together. Their lungs emptied and their heads grew dizzy. And even when everyone applauded loudly, Sam being the loudest, Dean still kissed Cas like it was the first time.

Sharing their first dance together as a married couple was something that Cas could never have imagined would be so romantic and fairytale-like. He hadn't picked the song. Dean did, and when Elvis Presley's 'Can't Help Falling In Love' filled the gazebo, he allowed himself to be led onto the dance floor. And when Dean took him into his arms, hugging Cas with a wide grin instead of taking up formal positions, the angel melted like butter.

Cas couldn't believe how he could long for Dean, how he could want him so much more than before like the way his body craved for him in that moment. He was enveloped in so much warmth, gathered so close in Dean's arms, that he erased everything and everyone around them and buried his face into the hunter's neck. And they swayed slowly together. They savored the moment of holding each other so close. Of needing each other the most. Until the song was over, they still didn't let go.

"Party mode!" Jody suddenly cried out, as she pumped the air with her fist.

Garth suddenly slipped behind the music console and fitted himself into the role of the DJ, hitting the beats instantly. And everyone followed, even Jack who didn't really know how to dance but was doing a fine job of mimicking a bird flapping its wings to 'Dance Monkey'.

Claire collected Alex, twirled her on the spot and she began to compete with Jack's entertaining moves. The two of them caught everyone's attention for a good while and Cas, holding onto Dean, brushed his lips against the other man's right cheek and longed for him more than he ever could. The two of them danced with each other, everyone else fading away slowly until the party was in full swing and night was falling. Then they joined Sam and Mala at a table in the corner.

"Gosh," Mala said dabbing ketchup off of Sam's chin, "you two," she smiled at Dean and Cas, "are the most adorable couple ever. Sexiest couple too. Your vows turned this one…" she squeezed the taller Winchester's shoulder, "into a ball of mush. He was melting like the wicked witch on the floor."

"In my defense, I've always dreamed of this day," Sam said proudly.

"Yeah, but ugly crying…" Mala shrugged.

"I'm a man of steel," Sam smiled.

"More like a mushy John Wick right now."

"I'll have you know…" Sam said defensively, "that John Wick was mushy when he lost his dog. He's even cried a few times."

"When?" Mala folded her arms.

Dean and Cas acted as silent speculators, obviously impressed by the banter between the two. Yet beneath the table, Cas' hand was trailing a pathway between Dean's thighs…boldly. And Dean was thoroughly enjoying the feel of those sure fingers.

"So, Cindy and Delilah, huh?" Mala's focus on them suddenly caused the older Winchester to startle in his seat, as if he had been caught in the guiltiest act ever, although Cas continued to dance his fingers across the front of Dean's pants.

"The meeting last week went well," the angel smiled and appeared remarkably composed. "They're really thrilled with the idea of moving out of the orphanage and in with us."

"I heard that the two of you did over their room all by yourself," Mala was impressed.

Cas nodded. "Fairytale themed as requested by the two of them. Thanks to Sam, they now own every Disney fairytale book with colorful illustrations."

"Also the DVDs," Dean suddenly found his voice, clearing his throat afterwards. "But reading first before the movie. Although they probably watched those films already."

"It's good that they have a father who is quite obsessed with Disney movies as much as they will be," Cas smiled at Mala. "He's watched Frozen at least five times."

"Six," Dean corrected.

"He's even named the cat we got last week after the freaking snowman," Sam shook his head at Mala.

"And Nemo is arriving next two weeks, a tabby," Cas announced proudly.

"Oh how the family continues to grow," Mala shook her head and laughed. "By the time you two are done, you'll have a football team."

Wrapping his arm around Dean, Cas tugged him nearer and pressed a kiss onto the other man's right cheek.

"See that?" Mala scowled at Sam. "That's so romantic, the way they kiss and hold onto each other. You would rather hold onto your salad than me. And I'm a meal all by myself."

Dean snorted, "that's it. I like you even more now."

"Hey, back off," Sam dramatically plastered a scowl on his face, chewing still, "she's mine. Cas, control your husband."

Everyone laughed.

By the time the married couple was ready to depart, everyone was fed, drunk and they all drifted towards the Impala. Then when Claire had to properly convince Jack that Dean and Cas were not leaving for good, he embraced that and calmed down. And after bundling themselves into the car, after hugging everyone and thanking them for sharing the best moment of their lives, Dean and Cas drove off into the night.

"Where are they headed again?" Alex asked Sam who was swaying from soaking up too much champagne.

"To a wonderful hotel in Texas where Dean will live out his cowboy dreams of riding the most prized horse in the lineup."

"What the…" Alex was so stunned, and Claire laughed so hard, that Jody and Donna drifted over.

"What's happening here?" Mala came to join them.

"Oh nothing," Alex tried to bite in her laughter whilst Claire clung to her, doubling over. Sam swayed on the spot even more, gazing up at the moon as if it was the most beautiful thing that he ever saw.


End file.
